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SENTIMENTAL AND COMICAL 



POEMS 



B Y 



A 
JAMES Hf'THOMAS 



^CSl^ 



NASHVILLE, THiN.: 
NATIONAL BAPT1«=T PUHL13HING BOARD. 

1913. 






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/f^.r.i An4fi4S6 




J. H. THOMAS, 
Author of Poems. 



intents. 



Section I— Sentimental 

Pages j 

PART I— Miscellaneous „ 7—83 \ 

PART II— Love 84-122 \ 

Section II— Comical 

PART I-^Dialectic Verss 122-151 ^ 

PART II- Dialectic Prose 152-171 : 



PREFACE 

In giving this little boo.t to the reading public, especially 
those of my race, I have aimed to enliven those smolder- 
ing coals of enthusiasm that so conspicuously characterize 
my race. I have learned that to touch upon the natural 
characteristics of a race or individual in a way that ap- 
peals to the inward forces of his nature, therefore putting 
him to thinking about the existing conditions in and around 
him, brings about serious thought, action and change on 
the part of that individual or individuals; hence, I have 
written verses touching along this particular line. 

I have also contriluted a few verses to LOVE, that 
never-dying flame, which will no doubt interest the young, 
the bachelor and the spinster. 

The foremost characteristic about our race is, that Na- 
ture has taught us to see the "funny" side of everything 
Sometimes we see that side first. But there is good in 
laughter and jollification, 'tis by this, if anything, that 
we have succeeded thus far. The comical selections of 
this book afford much laughter, which is a true tonic for 
stupidity, melancholy, and the gloomy periods of life. 

Hoping that you may find consolation in reading this 
little volume, I am, 

Yourte truly, 

THE AUTHOR. 



IN MY THINKING CASTLE. \ 

(ROOM IN WHICH POEMS WERE COMPOSED.) \ 

'T IS in my castle snug and neat 

That thoughts both old and new ; 

Are welcome. These I always greet, \ 

For they to me are true. ■ 

New thoughts the old ones introduce ; : 

Their hands I grasp and shake, 
I tightly hold and turn not loose. 

To my dull senses wake. j 

Old thoughts I reverence with care, ' ] 

For they have paved the way j 

For new ones that are bright and rare, - 

Which Nature's truths convey. { 

< - i 

'T is in my thinking castle that | 

I with these thougihts converse, j 

We have a pleasant social chat 
While them with care I nurse. 

Then by God's help I mold new ones, ' ; 

New thoughts formed in my mold. 

Each helpful thought that through me runs I 

At some time will be told. j 

(7) j 



POEMS, 



Yea, some day will be told 

In words simple and true ; 
These worthy gems of faultless g-old 

May serve to strengthen you. 

Great thoughts whose origin is God 

Are reproduced on earth 
Bj^ thinking men who labor hard 

To give them honest birth. 

Thoughts are conceived in rugged forms, 

Unpolished and disguised, 
But when refined their beauty charms. 

And how we are surprised ! 

God thought, and from his thought there sprang 

Creations great and small; 
Earth, moon, sun, stars. His praises sang. 

His wisdom formed them all. 

There is no law to keep mankind 

From thinking, no not one ; 
No law can govern any mind. 

For this cannot be done. 

This blessed castle, ten by twelve. 

In which I have absorbed 
Some thoughts that truly made me delve 

Below the surface sod, 



POEMS. 



Has been my comfort and retreat, ! 

My solace and my friend ; \ 

In it I take my lonely seat I 

And o'er poetry bend. \ 

Sometimes I chase a fleeting thought 

To realms beyond the skies ; ; 

I see it fleeing till 'tis caught i 

By patience, brains and eyes. 

When it I catch, to it I hold \ 

Till its great power spreads J 

O'er me in sheets of polished go^d, ; 

And its sweet essence sheds. ] 

And when I catch the spirit of J 

The thought that I have chased, i 

I then my energies involve, J 

And let no moments waste. ^ 



A POEM OF RETRIBUTION. 

Have you watched the results of a thrown rubber 

ball. 
How quickly it rebounds when it strkes a stone 

wall? 
Just so hard as you throw it, so it will return ; 
It teaches a lesson that we all should learn. 

So a bad deed when donei with an evil intent, 
Comes back again to us without our consent. 



10 POEMS. 



It comes at a time when we're prosperous and gay, 
And stops our progress without a delay. 

We hide the bad deeds when we bury them deep, 
But they rise up again, and right straight at us 

peep; 
We are fearful, astonished, when these deeds 

condemn 
Us, by bursting upon us with power and vim. 

We then tell a lie to demolish this plant. 
And try to destroy it forever, but can't. 
We sever it 'way to some depth in the ground. 
But the roots from which it came are solid and 
sound. 

And when we are dead and in graves are hurled, 
These deeds will spring upward, and show to the 

world 
What we did in the dark, and then tried to keep 

hid. 
But God, in his providence, lifted the lid. 

You may plant your bad deeds in the day or by 

night, 
And try to conceal them in darkness from light; 
But as sure as the sun keeps his course to the west, 
These deeds will confront you and put you to test. 

So let us not sow any acts of discord, 

But when we are tempted converse with the Lord, 



POEMS. 11 



Don't rush with a passion and lose self-control, 
For we in this way may endanger the soul. 



SOMEWHERE. 

Somewhere the world is dark because no brilliant 

rays are shining,. 
Some dreary land is gloomy because hearts are 

sore and pining; 
With the dark and gloomy seasons souls are tuned 

in harmony, 
And the countenance is robed in garments of 

solemnity. 

Still somewhere the sun is sending forth great 

rays of brilliant light 
Illuminating souls that once were filled with 

dreadful night; 
And in each chamber of the heart his brilliancy is 

spreading, 
And golden sheens and glittering beams within 

the soul he's shedding. 

Somewhere on life's tempestuous sea some one 

with awe is crying; 
Great streams of tears are flowing free from those 

Who're sad and sighing. 
Like seas whose ruffled bosom^i are inflamed by 

winds intruding, 
Are some poor souls who're struggling now 

against vile sim's deluding. 



12 POEMS, 



And yet, somewhere the seas are calm o'er which 

some ship is sailing; 
Some bosom's resting peacefully, no sighing 

neither wailing. 
Nor tortured hearts nor gushing tears to break 

the soothing calmness; 
No dashing waves nor swelling tides ; the winds 

are still and harmless. 

Somewhere some sin is being concealed in some 
heart for safe keeping, 

But at some time and at some place this sin 
will bring forth weeping. 

Some mind is drifting far away to regions of dis- 
traction. 

By trying to explore that realm which some call 
satisfaction. 

Still somewhere there're hearts divine that do 

not think of pining — 
Great hearts that have their trust in God and not 

always a'whining 
Because their skies seem always darkened by 

black clouds distressful; 
They strive to keep the clouds away until they are 

successful. 



DESTINY. 



There's no escaping Destiny, 
No matter how we plan. 



POEMS, 13 



We ean't unfold God's purposes — 
They save too firm for man. 

Our destiny was fixed before 

Our birth into the world ; 
We did not fix it when we came, 

Nor can it be unfurled. 

The road you traveled to success, 
Was strange to you, you know ; 

You never thought when you began. 
That you would this way go. 

Life's path was fashioned by no man. 

Nor destined by his wit ; 
'Twas surveyed by that Unseen Eye, 

And that we must admit. 

The things which you met in the way, 
Perhaps you tried to shun, 

And yet you say, "// I'd done thus," 
And "// I had not done." 

But "//" is never in the way 

When Destiny is planned 
By God himself, who does not change 

The plan he's made to stand. 

Don't worry about your destiny, 
But try to do your best, 



14 POEMS. 



To meet lifers problems with a smile, 
And give your soul a rest. 



TEMPTATIONS. 

We often make our temptations, 

And are overcome by lust. 
When we heed the inclinations 

That make us do things unjust. 

We are subject to dejections, 

At our best we cannot boast; 
We should all welcome corrections. 

And should not wait to be forced. 

We are told by our own conscience 
To do right, instead of wrong; 

What we crave is simply nonsense, 
Things that do not please us long. 

We conceive the sins that hurt us, 
Which we nourish by our will ; 

But ere long these sins will girt us 
So we can't our purpose fill. 

Things we welcome in our presence 
Are the things we love the best; 

But sometimes we get the essence 

From these things, which gives unrest. 



POEMS. 15 



Ask not God to move temptations, i 

T is a silly thing to do. ; 

Some you brought by inclinations, \ 

So the move is up to you. \ 



HABIT. 



Habit is like a parasite ; ; 

It saps the strength away ] 

From those who have become its slave, | 

And serve it day by day. 

A contagion of the worst kind, ; 

A dreadful, poisonous germ, j 
With deathlike grip it takes a hold, 

To serve a life-long term. j 

\ 

It gathers strength at our expense, \ 

It's bills we have to pay, j 
Till our weak frame, destroyed and wrecked, 

Lies breathless in the clay. 



Habit will make you pay a price 

Astonishingly high, 
With interest at a per c^nt 

That doubles, by and by. 

Do not in you a habit form 
Because it seems to please ; 

For ere long you will be debased 
By it, and long for ease. 



16 POEMS. 



Just place this sign upon your mind 

**No admission to you, 
Bad Habit, for your way is dark, 

And painful, and untrue.'' 

Then keep the door closed against it, 

Don't listen to its plea, 
And if you will not to it heed, 

You'll enjoy liberty. 



PATHOS. 



We sometimes have a feeling strange 

Hurled into our souls. 
That makes us tremble dreadfully, 

As when a church bell tolls. 

It wrings the tears from our eyes. 

And sighs of doleful sound 
Escape, that we cannot control. 

Matters not who's around. 

In some it is expressed in loud 

And sympathetic cries; 
Others are stilled by its approach, 

But deep in them it lies. 

But ah ! that silent one who sighs 
Within when troubles come. 

Is deepest touched, though not expressed 
In words as loud as some. 



POEMS. IT 



Pathetic strokes mellow the heart 

For charitable deeds; 
That soul stirred by pathos, and love 

Of Christian work, succeeds. 

Ring out ! chimes of saintly souls, 

Ring out in notes divine. 
In peals of great supernal tones 

That man cannot define. 

The soul doth overflow with love 
When Pathos reigns supreme, 

Close by his throne our blessings come, 
From God's life-giving stream. 



THE AIR CASTLE. \ 

In youth we build air-castles high, j 

Most beautiful and fine; 1 

We build a glowing edifice j 

That almost looks divine. ] 

Its domes and towers reach the skies, j 

With great columns and beams, ^ 
And arched windows of brilliant hue 

Reflecting sunset gleams. ' 

We walk between its stately walls, i 

And climb its marble stairs; ; 

Into its hig^h towers we soar ; 

Away from worldly cares. j 

Bedecked in our matchless pearls, '■ 



18 POEMS. 



Clotlied in our robes of white, 
We breathe heaven's refreshing air 
With joy and great delight. 

How securely we fix ourselves 

In our air-castles high ; 
We care not how the world moves on, 

Nor how the needy cry ; 
Our lofty minds are high above 

The famished and the poor, 
Nor care we for the feeble knock.^ 

For mercy at our door. 

But ah! a shock comes from below ^ 

"What can it be?" we say; 
That vain foundation was unsafe, 

And now it's giving way. 
Lock at that fair mansion you built, 

Now leans its stately form! 
Oh see it sinking, sinking down 

Before a trying storm! 

So with our reveries and dreams: 

With selfishness we view 
Our future life all full of blooms, 

Sweet flow^ers, fresh and pure. 
Rut when we think to gather up 

Those flowers sweet and fine, 
They quickly vanish from our sight, 

And then we pine and pine. 



POEMS. ' 19 



THE POWER OF SONG. 

(Delivered at a recital of Mme. Anita Brown.) 

Ah, what is more soothing to an impatient ear 
Than a song sweetly chanted by a lady dear ! 
It lifts one from earth to that high Realm above, 
Where song is- the sw^eetest expression of love. 

It thrills every fibre in a weary soul, 

E'en the minds of the stupid and slothful will 

stroll 
With the singers, 'midst the far constellations cf 

stars, 
And the great solar system with Venus and Mars. 

It melts the cold heart of the desperate one 

Like the heat does the snow from the hot brilliant 

sun. 
It gives one a. longing for song and for rhyme, 
And makes him feel noble, blissful and sublime. 

And if in some forest a woman should sing, 
The hills at a distance would make the song ring 
Through the meadows and valleys, with echoes 

of joy; 
The smoothness of rhythm they would not destroy. 

Or if on the top of some mountain she stood, 
A'singing with rapture, she'd win you, she would. 
Like manna from heaven her voice would descend. 



20 POEMS. 



And with every heart her sweet music would 
blend. 

Or if in that bottomless abyss she'd sing, 

Her voice like a new fount of water would sprin- 

From that fathomless pit with a bewitching 

sound, . 

And baptize her hearers with music profound. 

Or if she should visit the stars in the sky, 
No doubt that those heavenly bodies would shy 
When she made her obeisance, and began to smg, 
Chanting notes that would make heaven ring. 

If in the dark regions with demons below, 

She were doomed with the outcasts to torture and 

woe, 
Their eternal punishments they would forget 
When she would burst forth singing her sacred 

sonnet. 

They tell me that angels will keep silent when 
The great host of Christians shall be ushered m 
The portal of glory with new songs of prai.se, 
And great shouts of triumph and music they raise. 

The great power of song was displayed upon earth 
By angels who sang, "Peace, good-will," with 

great mirth. . 

Of the wonderful gift to the world they did smg. 
And their loud "Hosanna!" of praises did ring. 



POEMS, 21 



But hush, hush, listen! ye women and men; 
You children keep quiet! and don't move a chin, 
I hear a sweet voice, and it's one of renown ! 
Yes, come in! It's Mme. Patti Brown. 



UP THE ROAD. 



It seems that men are fully bent 

On violence and crime; 
They care not how their lives are spent, 

Nor how they waste the time. 
They're traveling at a dreadful speed. 

Which thej^ cannot afford, 
And hiding mistakes to succeed 

Which'll meet them up the road. 

Humanity's fast train of sin 

Will soon be wrecked by Time; 
'Tis loaded with distrustful men 

Who're wasting 'v^^ay their prime. 
So crowded is this train of sin. 

So very great its load, 
That men are fighting their way in 

To meet Death up the road. 

There're men of fortune on this train ; 

Some of worldly renown, 
Who pile up wealth by greedy gain ; 

Upon which God does frown. 
As sure as Time and Tide move on, 

And God keeps his abode, 



22 



POEMS. 



Ill-gotten wealth will make them groan 
When they're wrecked up the road. 

There are peacebreakers on this train, ^ 

Some "high-toned'' and refined, 
Who'll seek God's mercy, but in vain ; 

His hottest wrath they'll find. 
They're gliding smoothly now, no doubt, 

And with their conscience bored; 
Their awful deeds will be found out 

When they're wrecked up the road. 



Those little things kept in your heart 

Are ''no harm sins," you say; 
You hide them and a mountain start 

That will show up some day. 
These little sins that you have done 

Will some day make a load 
That you will try your best to shun, 

Or deny, up the road. 

It is in youth when sinful vice 

Saps one's manhood away; 
By simple ways does it entice 

When given it's full sway. 
Open your eyes, young man and maid. 

To yield you can't afford ; 
This sinful vice will make a raid 

Upon you up the road. 

How sad and painful is old age. 
What awful wrecks we see 



POEMS. 2B 



Performing daily on life's stage. 

All bent in misery ! 
Vitality all sapped away, 

God's vengeance on them poured, 
For youthful mistakes they must pay 

In sorrow up the road. 

Some hidden deeds that we have done 

In bygone days of old 
Will face us, and we cannot shun 

The punishment they hold. 
We pray, but God does not forget 

Those habits which we've sowed ; 
So it's no use to whine and fret, 

We'll meet them up the road. 

'Tass on," we say, ''tormenting deed; 

I thought that thou wert hid. 
How in the world can I succeed 

When my peace thou forbid?'' 
But ah! that deed will not obe\ 

U*itil revenge is poured 
Upon us. 'T is our well-earned pa\ 

Which we get up the road. 

''0 wretched flesh! lustful heart! 

misery and woe ! 
For heaven's sake will you depart ! 

Why do you torture so?" 
But flesh and heart are not to blame 

For these vile seed you've sowed ; 



24 POEMS. 



The fruits of which will have a claim 
Upon you up the road. 



LIE AND TRUTH. 

''Good morning, Lie/' said Truth one day; 
''Where are you going up this way?" 
Said Lie, "I'm going to dress like you, 
i or something that I have in view." 

"-aid Truth, "My garment's white and pure, 
I know they'll not look well on you." 
baid Lie, "I'll paint my face like yours. 
The other parts I'll not expose." 

Said Truth, "You cannot look like me, 
/ou'll be condemned, where'er you be." 
"I'll do m_y best," said Lie to Truth, 
"To look like you and fool some youth." 

Said Truth, "The parents train the youth 
oo when they 're grown, they know I'm Truth. 
Said Lie, "Fll grow as strong as they. 
And entice them to go my way." 

"Well, Lie," said Truth, "what would you do 
If I'd wash all the paint off you?" 
Said Lie, "I'd paint my face again; 
They'd think that you and I are kin." 

Said Truth, "This would be wrong of you. 
To deceive them who would be true." 



POEMS. 25 



Said Lie, 'They always make their choice; 

When they choose me I do rejoice." \ 

*The tongue that tells a lie," said Truth, 

''Is building up the devil's booth." i 

"The man who owns the tongue," said Lie, 

".Gets wealth and honor by and by." \ 

Said Truth, "His wealth can't save his soul. j 

Nor make his sinful body whole." \ 

"Ah well," said Lie, "You cannot see ] 

The side of it that interests me." ! 

! 

So Lie and Truth together went ; i 

On different missions they were sent. i 

One went to break the Lord's command, ! 
The other took a moral stand. 



TIME'S WEAPON. 

Time, the champion of the world. 
By many a hard-fought battle. 

Into eternity has hurled 

The rich man and the chattel. 

Time has a weapon sharp and keen, 

Of the very best metal ; 
There was no combat ever seen, 

But what brave Time did settle. 



26 POEMS, 



Never too fast, never too slow, 

Never passes decisions 
Until his time to strike the blow 

That settles all divisions. 

The dreadful weapon used by Time 

Is death! uncompromising, 
impartial, e'en vv^ith men sublime ; 

And many times surprising. 

The slightest touch of death's keen point, 
The weapon which Time uses, 

Makes cold the flesh, the bone and joint. 
Without e'en making bruises. 

Some make brave attempts to avoid 
Time's matchless, shim.mering steel, 

But get their well-fixed plans destroyed. 
Though they to God appea.. 

But Time laughs at his combatants, 

A scornful laugh laughs he; 
He does not care for protestants 

Nor a pathetic plea. 

''0 Time, Time! thy weapon stay; 

hold it in suspension. 
And spare my life for one more day, 



And you'll get my attention." « ] 

T is true that Time's component parts, \ 

Hours, minute and second, ] 



POEMS. 27 



All should be used by faithful hearts, 
For their value can't be reckoned. 

Time has given to everything, 

Two seasons well defined. 
One to prepare, well known as spring, 

The next, to reap and bind. 

Time ! how matchless is thy steel. 
How keen thy awful blade ! 

The brightness of it makes men feel 
So helpless and afraid. 

Ah, what a record thou hast made 

In earth and sea and sky ; 
Every creature, by thy blade 

Must some day breathless lie. 



MY REQUEST. 



Don't stand around me when I'm dead, 

With a deceitful tear, 
Nor a sad look, and hung down head, 

An angel to appear. 

But come around me w^hile I live. 

And when I am distressed. 
Then comfort me with what I need 

For this is my request. 

Don't pile up flowers on my grave 
When I am dead and gone ; 



28 POEMS. 



But all this time and money save 
To help the gospel on. 

But if some kind act you would show 

To me while I'm alive, 
Now your sweet flowers you may throw, 

To my spirit revive. 

Yes, give them now, oh give them now, 
When I deserve them most; 

YeS; give them now, before I join 
That great angelic host. 

Don't wait until Fm in my grave 

To sum up my mistakes, 
Beoause when told of yours, you rave 

And gr^at confusion make. 

But tell m.e of mine while I live. 
And watch yourself and yours, 

Before' to me your advice give, 
And my mistakes expose. 

Oh don't expose, do not expose, 

Brother, do not expose. 
Before to me your advice give, 

Correct yourself and yours. 

You have your faults and I have mine ; 

They may not be the same. 
To expose mine and cover thine 

Gives you no better name. 



POEMS, 29 



Say what you will and have no fear ; 

Don't wait till I am gone ; 
If it will help me, let me hear — 

To hold it back is wrong. 



SPUING GREETING. 

Lo! the winter now is past; 
Spring comes riding in at last, 
With her healthful, balmy breeze, 
Greeting birds and budding trees. 

List! I hear her gay *^Ha! ha!" 
Ringing through the meadows far, 
Getting everything in tune. 
Budding trees for shade in June. 

She has tuned the atmosphere 
With her season of the year; 
Light and gracefully she steps. 
Winning everything she helps. 

Winter tried to keep her 'way. 
Till the near approach of May; 
But the sun's hot rays forbade — 
And have many glad hearts made. 

E'en the ground-hog has come out 
Of his burrow wath a shout, 
For his shadow failed to show, 
As it did six weeks ago. 



30 POEMS. 



Gentle Spring, why lingered thou ? 
Thou delayed the farmers' plow ; 
'T is upon thee we depend 
For a happy harvest end. 

Breathe thou now upon the earth, 
And she will give gentle birth 
To more smiling buds and flowers, 
Making glad these hearts of ours. 



THE FLESH AND SOUL'S CONTROVERSY. 

What worries thee, thou troubled soul, 

Why cryest thou so loud? 
Knowest thou not there lies thy goal 

Within the darkest cloud? 

" Tis not the goal within the cloud 
That makes- my troubles cease. 

Though thoughts of it do make me proud — 
But thou let me have peace." 

Do not the worldly things suffice, 

Of mirth and joy and peace? 
Is not the earth a paradise, 

Where pleasures never cease ? 

Vast treasures have I stored away. 

That I might use at will ; 
They'll serve thee well a rainy day. 

Then, soul, wilt thou be still ? 



POEMS. n 



"No, when the days are clear and bright, 

And lit by sunny rays. 
If thou with sin wilt still unite, 

To me 't is rainy days." 

In spacious halls I skip and dance. 

And laugh with merry glee ; 
I try your pleasure to enhance, 

But thou still torture me. 

"As oil and water can't be mixed, 

So worldliness with me 
Cannot unite, for I am fixed 

As firm as I can be. 

"Do let me rule, flesh of man, 
With temperance for a guide ; 

You'll not regret that you began 
A life that gave you pride." 



O pleading Soul ! I yield to thee, 

ril fulfill thy request ; 
For by your words, I plainly see 

That truly you know best. 



WHEN I WAS YOUNG. 

When I was young, and in my prime. 
With books to read, and ample time, __ 
'T was pleasure then and nothing more 
That I lived for in days of yore. 



32 POEMS. 



When I was young and had my strength, - 

For pleasure I would go full length, j 

And let the precious moments fly, \ 

And opportunities pass by. '\ 

When I was young, my energy ^ 

Was wasted, 'way unsparingly i 

With comrades of the meanest sort. \ 
I gave not time a single thought. 

When I was young, and chances good, \ 

I failed to use them as I should ; 1 
I loved strong drink and poker games. 

And took delight in wrecking names. \ 

When I was young, my conscience said: 
"Young man, do cultivate the head, : 

And purify the heart and thought;" 1 

But I against that advice fought. 

When I was young my pains were few ; 1 

What trouble was I hardly knew. \ 

I had a strong and healthy frame. 

But I was wild and hard to tame. i 

\ 

Now I am old, and time has fled, I 

No books to read, nor decent bed ; ] 

My thoughts good thinkers all condemn, ' 

My best days gone, and chances slim. \ 



Now I am old, no progress made, 
My friends no more can I persuade 



POEMS. 33 



To comfort me with word or deed, 
Nor give me anything I need. 



Now I am old, my way is hard ; 



The season's past and I am barred. j 

If I could my past life recall, ': 

To help the world, I'd give it all. j 

Young man, from this a lesson take. 
And while you 're young, keep wide awake. 
I once was youthful, strong and bold, 
But now I'm old, now I am old. 



FASHION AGAINST COMFORT. 

Ho, Comfort ! whaf^s thy mission here, 

What service canst thou do? 
Since things have changed from old to new, 

Which now are against you ? 

**I serve the wise and thoughtful class 

Of people, who will heed 
The timely advice that I give 

In order to succeed." 

Pshaw, Comfort, people laugh at thee 

In these fanciful days ; 
Thy appearance and awkwardness 

Are spurned in many ways. 

'The health and ease that I afford, 
All people would enjoy; 



34 POEMS. 



But thou with glaring temptations 
Destructive means employ." 



Then why do they prefer my way 

To yours of peace and rest? I 

If I am a destructive force \ 

Why not 'gainst me protest? 1 

' T]i. .u art a force stronger than they, j 

So powerful and strong, | 

That thou canst change appearances \ 

And lead the masses wrong." 1 

In the beginning was it so — \ 

Did I then have the power | 

That I have now with modem thought, \ 

That's called "up to the hour?" \ 

''Thou wert not known to mankind then, | 

Then men grew large and strong ; \ 

They then obeyed the laws of health, j 

And lived healthy and long. -^ 

''As soon as thou began to rise I 

With thy bewitching traits, j 

Thou didst disguise that which was pure 1 

And molded 'fashion plates.' I 

"Thou handicap the worldly minds i 

With sights that do allure ■ 

The appetites for showy things \ 

Which will not long endure. \ 



POEMS. 35 



'Thou hast brought on mankind disgrace 

By making virtue cheap ; 
The strong desire for costly garb 

Are mistakes which they'll reap." 

Ah, Comfort, dost thou hate to see 

Nature aided this way, 
Is not the world more beautiful 

And men more blithe and gay ? 



"The world is not as beautiful 
As t'was in olden times, 

For then nature had its own way 
Men died not in their prime. 

''So let us close the argument. 

Old Father Time will tell 
Which of us two will win at last. 

For he surely judges well.'' 



WE'RE COMING UP. 

Two hundred forty years or more 

Held us in slavery bound ; 
Just chattels, so to speak, were we. 

Beaten and cuffed around. 
Our sympathizers held their peace, 

And failed to interrupt; 
But God did not forget that we 

Were down, but would come up. 



i 

36 POEMS. ; 



Our parents groaned beneath the lash ; \ 

Yet tliey were true and tried. | 

They had no one to pity them, \ 

But knew God would provide. i. 

They suffered untold misery, 1 

Drank of that bitter cup. ■ 

They sulfened, but good seeds were sown ; 

In men who're coming up. ^ 

is 

Punished and driven to hard tasks, i 

Like dumb-brutes from the stalls ; -; 

Tho' weak and feeble some would be, \ 

They answered to the calls. \ 
But God, who watches everything. 

Both holy and corrupt, \ 

Saw in His plan a mighty race . 

Kept down, but would come up. - i 

To worship God, they slipped away, [ 

To some quiet praying ground, 

And sung, and prayed with heartfelt love, ] 

While langels hovered 'round. i 
They list, but could not understand, 

Nor that sweet essence sup ; j 

For by those prayers, a suppressed race j 

Kept down, would be raised up. \ 

All heaven would be silent now, i 

To listen to a prayer \ 

Burst forth from heart sincere and true, \ 

But now, such hearts are rare. \ 

Two centuries or more they prayed, I 



POEMS. 37 



And partook of that cup 
Whose contents were a dreadful lash 
To stop our coming up. 

Oh ! think of what we undergo 

In these enlightened times; 
We're punished by unlawful iT^eans 

To recompense for crimes. 
The innocent are driven from 

Their comforts and their homes, 
To satisfy an angry mob, 

That through our districts roams. 

Does history repeat itself? 

Ye'9, in this present day ; 
The Israelites were burdened too, 

Just in the selfsame way. 
Egyptians' cruel yokes they wore 

Through many weary years, 
But God had planned to set them free 

Of burdens and of tears. 

Let's not give over to despair, 

Ye race despised and spurned ; 
God gives to every race a chance, 

E'en though abused and shunned. 
Though some may never see that day. 

Nor of its sweetness sup. 
But they should pray continually 

That others may come up. 



38 POEMS. 



DEATH A DREAM. 

Only a dream, a pleasant dream, ; 

Is Death to God's election — ' 

A careful usher o'er the stream I 

Bridged by hope's own direction. i 

i 

A balm that soothes departing souls 

Called home by the Infinite; 

A hand that opens the spiritual realm, 1 

And ushers the soul in it. i 

dreadful Death, God's instrument, ■ 

Umpartial in thy dealings; j 

It matters not how calm thou be, \ 

Thou bringest sad, sad feelings. ] 

A saint that death doth rock to sleep l 

Shows happiness by smiling; 1 

The soul is wafted to it-s God ] 

Where there is no defiling. l 

I 

That rare expression on the face I 

Of the soul that is dreaming i 

Is God's great mercy full and free, j 

So soothing and redeeming. \ 

When will the soul 'wake from its sleep, \ 

And tell that endless story? ] 

Or where are words that can express l 

The visions of God's glory? i 



POEMS. 39 



Dream on, soul, and take thy rest 
In that fair land of promise ; 

We can't disturb thee by our wails. 
While in that land of bliss. 

Thy empty "soul case" shall decay, 
And mingle with the dust; 

But thou shalt ever take thy rest 
In heaven with the just. 

Wake not, wake not, sainted soul ! 

But dream of things in heaven ; 
Dream not of us, for we must go 

When God's orders are given. 

Death is a dream that will come true ; 

Tis only told in glory; 
The dreamer ne'er returns to earth 

To tell the matchless story. 



THE EFFECT OF MUSIC. 

Hark ! my soul, the music in thee 
Turns my gloominess to bliss; 

tell me who could dislike it 
And its blessed comforts miss? 

In the abyss of nature 

There are sweet musical chords, 
Harmonizing words and rhythm 

Making notes that get applauds. 



40 . POEMS. 



When the pianists touch lightly 
The keys of the instrument, 

How souls catch the inspiration 
That with pleasantness is sent. 

Yea, ail music gives me comfort, 
From a Jew's harp to a band ; 

Each one has a place in nature 
That we do not understand. 

Welcome to my longing nature, 
thou music rare and grand ! 

Vv^elcome ^hen I'm melancholy — 
Thou makest my soul expand. 

Before the day begins its dawning. 
When the world is calm and still, 

And the orchestra comes playing — • 
How our souls with rapture fill! 

When we wake and heiar the music 
Flowing into our bedrooms, 

Can we then express our feelings? 
Does it not drive 'way the gloom? 

When we sometimes feel forsaken 
By our near and distant friends, 

Don't we find solace in music 
As it with our natures blends? 

If there were no love for music 
In the world, what would it be? 



POEMS, 41 



Souls of men would be like demons 
Caring naught for harmony. 

Instruments of all descriptions 
Has the Lord created here; 

Made he them for man's own comfort, 
And his weary soul to cheer. 

How the strains of music waft us 
To delightful realms somewhere 

High above earth's toils and worries, 
On the matchless wings of air. 

There is music in each atom, 

And in ev'ry molecule; 
It was God who planned and fixed it 

By one great established rule. 

Tap a drum or blow a comet 

On a gloomy battle-field; 
Men will rise up with new vigor, 

And will not to their foes yield. 

Let soft strains of music enter 

Into a dying man's room ; 
It will stir his soul with rapture. 

And will death's dark way illume. 

Welcome to my soul, music! 

May thy sweetness it absorb. 
And within my bosom linger 

While robed in thy holy garb. 



42 POEMS. 



Welcome to our homes, Music, 
Drive away gloom and despair; 

Do not hesitate to enter, 

Bring delight and comfort there. 

Melt away like snow, Music, 
Into our warm hearts dissolve 

While we feast upon they essence 
Which our longing souls involve. 

Eock me now, sacred Music, 
While I into dreamland go, 

And my rest will be so peaceful 
That I'll want to 'wake no more. 



SUPPRESSED SOUL. 

The strong pulsations of the heart, 

And sad expressions of the face, 
Tell of a pleading, struggling soul. 

Repelling all that's low and base. 

'Tis with the flesh that it contends. 
The sinful house in which it dwells — 

They don't agree, and never will. 
For when one acts, the other tells. 

The soul cries out in agony; 

The face shows symptoms of its cries. 
For tearful eyes and pallid cheeks 

Are signs that trouble inward lies. 



POEMS. 43 



Subdue the flesh to ease the soul; 

Give heed to right and shun the wrong; \ 

Suppress low passions of the flesh ; \ 

Then will the soul grow firm and strong. ] 



The flesh returns to dust again; 

The greedy worms which it creates 
Are like the sins that once it .served; 

Devours and never hesitates. 

The soul will live for evermore; 

For when it from this body goes, 
It takes a peaceful flight to God, 

Away from fleshly lust and woes. 



STRIKE NOT BACK AGAIN. 

We are very often treated 

With contempt and scorn; 
But if right, we're not defeated, 

Though much must be borne. 
When mistreated by the world, 

And tempted to sin; 
A¥hen upon us wrong is hurled, 

Strike not back ag^ain. 

Keep on standing, keep on standing, 

Firmly, true and strong; 
Keep on standing, and demanding 

Right instead of wrong. 
Men will strike to get up a contest, 

But you will be sure to win. 



44 POEMS, \ 

^ _^ ^ ■ I 

If for right you will stand in the conquest, j 

And istrike not back again. i 



Godliness has won the greatest 

Battles of the world. 
Christian men must stand the tempest, 

With their flags unfurled ; 
When the world strikes you with vigor. 

Through her worldly men. 
Let us stand with godly rigor. 

But strike not back again. 

Learn a lesson from the Savior, 

Who stood buffs and scorns. 
And accused of misbehavior, 

Wore a crown of thorns. 
Though they cursed Him, though they struck Him, 

But the world to win, 
He praj^ed for them, never hurt them; 

Struck He not back again. 

Yes, the world hates Christian workers; 

Against Christ it stands. 
And with hypocrites and shirkers, 

Forms the striking bands. 
And they strike with aims to scatter 

All the godly men. 
Let them strike, it does not matter, 

Strike not back again. 



POEMS. 45 



THE ORIGIN OF THANKSGIVING. 

This day which we now celebrate, 
We know, did not originate 
In these gay times; for pleasures hold 
The highest place with young and old. 

Nor in the nineteenth century, 
When the whole world progressively 
Moved on, and new inventions made. 
For which men have been duly paid. 

When success to the Pilgrims came, 
They solemnized this day and name 
By thanking God for blessings past, 
And praying him that they might last. 

They left their homes across the sea. 
And came here, where they could be free 
To serve the Lord in their own way ; 
They would not England's laws obey. 

In sixteen hundred twenty-one, 
After much needed work was done, 
Realizing the progress made. 
They met together, sang and prayed. 

'T was after the harvest had past ; 
That these good folks planned a repast. 
They did not mourn, nor were they sad. 
But they were happy, gay and glad. 



46 POEMS, 



They went to church and sang and prayed, 
And ther^ to God their homage paid; 
They laughed and feasted all day long, 
And sang a new thanksgiving song. 

Nor were they selfish with their joys, 
And they made not deceitful noise, 
But welcomed Indians to their feast, 
From the greatest to the least. 

From this let us a lesson take, 

And do not our God forsake; 

But when Thanksgiving comes around, 

Let's worship Him with joyful sound. 

Thanksgiving comes, Thanksgiving goes, 
Who'll see the next? Nobody knows. 
But let us all thank God that we 
Are living now, and this one see. 

Thank God from whom all blessings flow, 
Thank Him, all creatures here below ; 
Thank Him above, ye heavenly host ; 
Thank Father, Son and Holy Ghost. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON, THE SYNONYM 
OF PATRIOTISM. 

George Washington, the synonym 
Of truth, of bravery and of vim ; 
One hundred eighty years ago 
Was born, the greatest man of yore. 



POEMS. 47 



In ''Old Virginia" he was bom ; 
A noble spirit in him shone, 
As bright as any brilliant sun, 
Spreading his beams on every one. 

'T was in a large, old-fashioned frame 
In which was bom this man of fame; 
All filled with patriotic zeal, 
He gave his country service real. 

His patriotism he first proved 
To his sad mother, who was moved 
When hearing that he longed to be 
A midshipman out at sea. 

Her countenance was dark and sad; 
It pained her heart to see the lad 
So eager, fearless, and so brave 
To no doubt make the sea his grave. 

Heart filled with sympathetic love 
Which has its source in heaven above, 
He proved his patriotism true. 
Saying to her, "I'll not leave you." 

His noble spirit burned within; 
Fired with ambition to begin 
A noble work which God ordained; 
He started out and heights attained. 

A skillful surveyor was he, 
Just as alert as he could be. 



48 POEMS, 



O'er mountains high and valleys low | 

He made his way, and hardships bore. ] 

1 
A soldier bold, a isoldier brave, ; 

Undaunted, fearless to his grave, j 

He stood not shivering with fear, \ 

But fought his way, though dark and drear. | 

j 

a 

For seven years, he stood unswerved, i 

Never lost hope, was ne'er unnerved, ] 

But kept his eyes upon the goal i 

For which he strove with heart and soul. j 



Oh, what a lesson we should glean 
From this great man, whose life was clean. 
To-night we celebrate his birth 
With flags, colonial garbs and mirth. 

Patriotism begun lat home. 

And well established in hearts warm, 

Inspires the soul and helps defend 

The fireside, church, and state and friend. 



APOSTROPHE TO BAD PASSION. 

Farewell, Bad Passion, get you hence, 
With you I'll use my common sense, 
For you don't mean to treat me right; 
Your way is just as dark as night. 

To me I thought you very dear. 

But found your way so dark and drear 



POEMS, 49 



That when I thought Fd reached my goal, 
You, sinful Passion, pained my soul. 

What held you tightly in your palm 
While walking with me arm in arm? 
'T was something with destructive power 
A-wrecking my life every hour. 



i-fe- 



Can you imagine what you've done 
That's made my life a wretched one ? 
You've led me in the path of wrong, 

Passion! Passion! go along. 

My mother told me years ago. 
That you would give me pain and woe 
If I Avould listen to your plea; 
And sacrifice my life to thee. 

1 turned away from her advice. 
Thinking that your way would suffice ; 
I followed you until I found 

That you, bad Passion, had me bound. 

I used to love your way the best; 
In it I found no peace nor rest. 
Now I have giv'n my heart to God, 
And for his cause I'll labor hard. 



I do remember well to-day. 

When first I entered in your way. \ 

You said that you would soon unfold ■ 

To me mysterious joys untold. 



50 POEMS. 



I followed you for many years, 
But every step increased my tears. 
I worshipped you until I could 
Not serve my Master when I should. 

go away, I cannot bear 

To face you with that fearful glare; 
Your actions tell me that you meant 
To torture me till life was spent. 

Now don't you ever cross my path, 
For I must surely meet God's wrath, 
If I to you these moments give 
In sinful folly while I live. 

1 saw Bad Passion move away 
With steady steps, without delay, 
He looked at me as if to say, 
There'll be a more convenient day. 

Aiid now, dear Lord, I come to thee 
With perfect faith and liberty. 
Do make me strong without, within. 
For Bad Passion will come again. 



SOME FACTS ABOUT DR. L. K. WILLIAMS, 
Th. B., 

Pastor of Mt. Gilead Baptist Church, Ft, Worth, 
Texas. 

All brimming full of energy, 
Intelligence and thrift. 



POEMS. 51 



Is the man whom I shall present. 

He has a valued gift 
Of rarest quality and worth, 

And rightly cultivated. 
This talent which came with his birth. 

His life illuminated. 

And if I were a painter skilled, 

With careful hand I'd paint 
A picture of his peerless soul ; 

Nor would I tire nor faint, 
But express everj quality 

That his calm soul possess, 
And show the rare and hidden traits 

Which assured his success. 

Unfortunately I cannot 

In this way him portray, 
But with my pen I'll do my best, 

In a poetic way. 
Exaggeration I'll not use. 

But facts simple and true; 
Nor will I try you to confuse, 

For this I never do. 

He makes ''haste slowly" as he climbs 

To prominence and fame; 
And struggles upward to the mark 

Which he has for his aim. 
"Undaunted faith and courage bold!" 

Is the slogian he uses; 



52 POEMS, 



Then marches he to grasp and hold \ 

Whatever good he chooses. j 

':- '--.. j 

The beauty of intelligence j 

Makes bright hiis countenance; | 

His eyes, the ''windows of his soul," ] 

Will thoughtful ones convince 4 

That high ideals possess his mind i 

And will his life control, J 

For vdth true eloquence he makes | 

Impressions on the soul. I 

I 

A planner in a class alone, i 

Of rare artistic skill, | 

"A mind to work'' that does not fail, | 

Strong faith and iron will. | 

These qualities of sterling worth j 

Are lifting him to heights i 

Where great men have by faith attained, | 

And shone like beacon lights. ^ 



A classy pulpiteer is he, 

Spiritually inclined ; 
The Holy Ghost his director; 

Like dynamite confined, 
Explodes and penetrates the soul, 

And wrecks that inward sin 
Th,a,t so often misleads a man 

While holding sway within. 

Uncompromisingly he stands 
'Gainst sin and fornication; 



POEMS. 53 



For between righteousness and wrong 

There can be no relation.'* 
A line was drawn between the two 

And this sign placed upon it: 
"No tresspassing, neither of you," 

Commanded the Infinite. 

for a few more men to preach 
The gospel truth and live it; 

Men who will not waste precious time, 
But to God's service give it. 



on 



STAY WITH YOUR RACE. ] 

Stay with your race, Negro man, ! 

And help it to succeed; , 
Stay with it, 'tis a part of you ; 

Its progress don't impede. \ 

Stay with your race when you have w 

Some prominence and fame; 
Let not prosperity be us-ed 

Your passions to inflame. 

Stay with the women of your race 

They're good enough for you; 
Don't worship at another's shrine. 

But to your own be true. 

Don't leave your race to others seek, 

For those you leave behind, 
It has enough things to endure 

From prejudice unkind. 



54 POEMS. 



When you have become prominent, ; 

And hold a famous place, ^ 

Don't spurn the one who helped you up, ] 

Nor find fault of the race. ; 



Stay with your race for you may fall \ 

And have your sins to reap. 

Then your best friends in other ranks '. 

May shun you while you weep. 

let your race be your ideal. 

You can no higher go, j 

For when it has a bad mishap ■ 

It hurts you too, you know. 1 

I 

'1 

The word Negro includes us all, 

The 'high as well as low; j 

And you'll be recognized as such j 

No matter where you go. \ 



You may be brown, you may be bleached. 

You may be white ais snow. 
But if there's Negro blood in you, 

In some way it will show. 



A TRIBUTE TO THE B. Y. P. U. OF MT. 
GILEAD CHURCH, FORT 
WORTH, TEXAS. 

THE PRESIDENT'S RIDE. 

In a progressive Chariot the president rides 
He is drawn by eight horses, in which he confides. 



POEMS. 55 



Eight reins, four in each hand, he manfully holds, 
And his great flag of valor his bearer unfolds. 

Each horse has a crown that is brilliant and new. 
With these letters engraved in them: '^B. Y. P. U." 
The pledge of the Union is well fixed in mind. 
And the objects well stated and clearly defined. 

Just one move and a crack of the president's whip 
Make these steeds dart away like a crest-riding 

ship. 
"To the heights, to the top of the hill!" is his cry; 
"Ye captains and. leaders, get ready and fly !" 

The bright beams of loyalty glow in their faces ; 
They speed to the heights with no slack in their 

traces. 
And scale the high mountain of fortune and fam-3 
Where they build for the Union an honorable 

name. 

The two foremost horses are noted for speed; 
They pull well together, and they will succeed. 
For they are reliable and have attained 
The heights of our confidence which were or- 
dained. 

The next to the foremost has been truly tried; 
The president smiles when he sees how they 

glide 
Up the slope of the mountain with efforts untired, 
With great force of progress and ambitions fired. 



56 POEMS. 



The next span of horses are willing to show- 
That they are aimbitious and ready to go, 
At the will of the president, who is their guide. 
Their good work and energy can't be denied. 

Then next come the wheel horses, noble and true, 
Who know how to pull for the B. Y. P. U. 
They are ever loyal and ready to skip 
Up the heights at a glance of the president's whip. 

And this is the president's song as he goes; 
The song he is singing, the whole Union knows. 
As he drives to the goal with his spirited noise, 
In efforts to save all the young girls and boys. 

"Come, Lewis and Lawrence, and Sadie and Eva! 
We must scale the heights to the goal now or 

never ; 
Come, Ellis and Logans, and Finnie and Mamie, 
And show to the world that you're plucky anci 

gamey." 

So the president rides, and swiftly he glides 
In his progressive chariot* with joy and pride; 
His aim at the top of the mountain is true, 
And he'll surely land with the B. Y. P. U. 



THIRTY-SIXTH ANNIVERSARY OF MT. 

GILEAD BAPTIST CHURCH, NOVEMBER 

2G, 1911. 

My friends, come, let us take a stroll. 
And thirty-six long years unroll; 



POEMS, 



Let's note the events, great and small, 
There's inspiration in them for all. 

The wheel of progress is the key 

That I shall use to make you see 

The changes which these years have brought, 

By men of wisdom, brain and thought. 

They're Dr. Griggs and Dr. Hay, 
And Dr. Jones, who paved the way; 
Our Deacons Fowler, Crouch and Hines 
Held up the hands cf these divines. 

The women too did weil their parts; 
They gave the work their hands and hearts. 
Just as they do in all good work. 
They never lag nor pine nor shirk. 

The wheel of progress that stood still, 
Hindered the work against God's will; 
But He who saw the yoke they wore 
Unlocked the wheel and let it go. 

The wheel of progress made a turn. 
And then their hearts begin to yearn 
For righteousness and peace and love, 
And blessings from the God above. 

The future may've been dark to them. 
But they had grace and plenty vim 
To work and plead and be^ and search, 
Till they got means to build a church. 



58 POEMS. 



Determined and steadfast they grew, 
And proved by works that they were true; 
Directed by that unseen hand, 
They bought a lot and this church planned. 

The wheel of progress turned again, 
Which brought about a change within 
The hearts of them who had not stood 
With those determined to do good. 

The wheel of progress, round by round, 
Brought in new ideas true and sound; 
Old ideas vanished with the past. 
They were too old; they could not last. 

The wheel of progress spun and whirled. 
And new edifices unfurled ; 
The old frame structures once admired 
Gave 'way to brick ones now required. 

So men with their new ideas came 
x4nd served the church with works and fame ; 
That they worked hard, we must admit, 
For they had courage vim and grit. 

They boldly strove and labored much 
To build a new Mt. Gilead Church; 
But God showed them that in His plan 
The work was for another man. 

No doubt they in a vision saw 

The church that we are working for; 



POEMS. 59 



But, like God's leader from Nebo, 
Viewed Cainaan land but could not go. 

The wheel of progress turned once more. 
By faith we watched and prayed and lo! 
A man of God, with grace and fame. 
Resigned his church and to us came. 

'Twas Dr. Williams, whom God sent, 
And we were all quite confident 
That he would build for us a church, 
For this we know was needed much. 

This fast decaying church, I'm told. 
By friends, is thirty-six years old; 
However old may be this frame. 
We shou'ld perpetuate its name. 

And now, my friends, you will not care 
If I should take one moment rare 
To pay due homage to this church, 
In which we all have labored much. 

Oh, sacred church! thy walls and pews 
Will just a few more days be used; 
We're planning a new edifice 
For which we're making sacrifice. 

Oh, pulpit, sacred and divine! 
No mission is so true as thine; 
Old and untidy though you be, 
We all have due respects for thee. 



60 POEMS. 



Baptizing pool! we reverence thee; 
Thou liquid grave! how dear to me. 
Plunged in thy bosom out of sight, 
Souls were baptized who found the light. 

Thou, soul-reviving instrument, 
From thee much music has been sent; 
We'll give thee a vacation soon, 
For thou art* old and out of tune. 

Farewell, thou tolling bell, farewell! 
Thy story is too sad to tell ; 
With awe we've heard thy thrilling soimd 
In one sad note for miles around. 

Now, friends and members, pray and work; 
Our duty we should never shirk. 
And while the wheel of progress rolls, 
Let's build a modern church for souls. 



THE TEMPLES OLD AND NEW. 

Delivered at the Corner-Stone Laying of the Mt. 

Gilead Church, Fort Worth, Texas. 

More than two thousand years ago. 

When David reigned as king, 
A longing to build God a house 

Within his soul did ring. 

God said to him: ''Thou shalt not build 
This house, beloved one; 



POEMS. 61 



The temple that is in thy mind 
Shall be built by thy son." 



David grew old and passed away ; I 

His soul went to its rest. ! 

And Solomon reigned in his stead, , 

For it was God*s request. ; 

King Solomon the temple planned 

In the name of the Lord; 
To build a cheap house for his God 

He c(mld not well afford. ; 

Hiram, his friend, said unto him: 1 

"I heard about thy plan; ' 

ril send timbers from Lebanon, \ 

And help you all I can." I 

So Hiram sent to Solomon 

Great cedar trees of worth; 

And in return received supplies ; 

Of wheat, the best on earth. 

By mutual aid he did succeed i 

The temple built was grand; ! 

For everything was fixed just like ; 

King Solomon had planned. j 

It measured sixty cubits long, 1 

And twenty cubits wide; 1 

And thirty cubits high. It was i 

Exact on every side. ] 



62 POEMS, 



The porch before the temple was 

Twenty cubits in length; 
This added to the edifice 

Rare beauty, grace and strength. 

No hammer, ax, nor iron tools 

Were by the builders used; 
To build God's house with iron tools 

King Solomon refused. 

The stones were hewn before they were 
In this great structure placed; 

The skilled Sidonians hewd them out 
With precision and haste. 

The house was built and overlaid 

With quantities of gold. 
No other house was ever built 

As fine as this, Fm told. 

Then came the dedication day, 
And Solomon's great prayer; 

His soul he poured out to the Lord, 
Who heard and blessed him there. 

He prayed to God to have respect 

Unto that special prayer; 
God promised to stay hard by him, 

If he'd of sin beware. 

God's glory filled the holy place, 
So that the priests could not 



POEMS. 63 



Perforin their duties, for his presence 
Made sacred that spot. 

My friends, behold Mt. Gilead Temple 

That is being built; 
And modern Solomon who planned it, 

One who has no guilt. 

The preacher who first planned to build it 

Sleep eth in the grave 
Like David; but made the preparation 

And good counsel gave. 

Dr. Williams caught the inspiration 

And this temple planned; 
God gave to him true faith and wisdom, 

And a working band. 

Every deacon, every member 

Of this church must work; 
For he tells them from the pulpit 

That they cannot shirk. 

No inactive, slothful member 

Shall stop our progress; 
If they cannot go on with us 

They should now confess. 

When I see these six great columns 

With mine eyes intense, 
Vm reminded of six valiant 

Soldiers of defense. 



64 POEMS. 



See that beautiful roof -garden, 

Elevated high 
In the healthful, balmy breezes, 

Sweeping through the sky! 

You shall see the stained glass windows 

Gleaming in the sun; 
Every gleam will show God^s presence, 

Greeting every one. 

It was thought that such a building 
- Was only a joke; 
And such could not be erected 
By the colored folk. 

I can see the future glory 

Of this modem church, 
Shining out like rays of sunshine, 

Seeking hearts to touch. 

We have met, my friends, to see them 

Lay the corner-stone 
Of the new Mt. Gilead Temple, 

Which we love and own. 

It is sacred and it should be 

Laid by Christian hands; 
Men whose hearts are pure and stainless, 

Keeping God's commands. 

If Father Time or Accident 
Destroy this Holy Shrine, 



POEMS. 65 



And friends and kindred come around 
Seeking relics divine, 

may they find a record of 

Our gifts sealed with this stone, 

And it will other souls inspire 
When we are dead and gone. 

Sunday, August 11, 1912. 



A GLOWING TRIBUTE OF RESPECT TO 
PROF. S. H. FOWLER AND THE MT. 
GILEAD B. Y. P. U., FORT WORTH, 
TEXAS. 

Have you heard of the Mt. Gilead B. Y. P. U. 
With its four noted sections so faithful and true ? 
The captains and leaders are thoroughly trained 
To manage their sections with the knowledge 
gained. 

The Willing and Ready, a section of fame. 
Puts forth every effort to prove well its name; 
Mmes. Logans and Ellis are striving to show 
That they have the habit of making things go. 

The next is a section whose workers are good, 
Its method for working is well understood ; 
'Tis the Ever Loyal that makes good reports, 
It is led by Miss Fulcher and Miss Bertha Coats. 

And now comes the *'Big Thing," the True and the 
Tried, 



GQ POEMS, 



With Ever the leader and Mris. Caldwell the guide; 
You may say what you please, you may talk ot 

defeat, 
But the True and Tried section is sure hard to 

beat. 

The fourth and last section we cannot forget, 
Tis the "Old Reliable," the biggest thing yet; 
William Lewis, the captain, is so dignified 
Because Mrs. Lawrence is the faithful guide. 

The great study course of the B. Y. P. U. 
Has Brother Quick Bui ton, one of the few 
Young men, who is willingly giving his time 
To teach Baptist doctrine, and warn against 
crime. 

Prof. Steve Fowler, the president in charge. 
Keeps warm in his bosom a heart that is large; 
He treats all alike, and to all he is true. 
And works with his might for the B. Y. P. U. 

Members and leaders of the B. Y. P. U., 
Let us give Fowler honor; to him it is due. 
Give him a few flowers before he is dead. 
For by him we know we are carefully led. 

Let us hold neither envy nor strife in our heart's 
Against our president, who always imparts 
Such wholesome instructions that uplift our band, 
But rally around him and hold up his hand. 



POEMS. 67 



Let us work fcr the uplift of young girls and 

boys, 
To lighten their burdens and enhance their joys; 
Let us lift up the fallen, and strengthen the weak, 
Teach them to be humble, and lowly and meek. 

Don't ever scorn those who cannot dress like you ; 
'Tis not the spirit of the B. Y. P. U. 
Be careful, the seed that you sow with deceit 
May spring up and your good intentions defeat. 

Let all of your motives be good and sincere. 
And prove to your leader that you have no fear 
To heed his instructions and pay what is due. 
For this is the life of the B. Y. P. U. 

And now, president of the B. Y. P. U., 
Time is too limited to further pursue 
The course I have taken to strengthen this band 
Of the best set of workers throughout all the 
land. 

You were born for the place that you now hold 
so well. 

What the future still holds for you, we cannot 
tell: 

But we judge from the good v^e are doing today 

That there's something in store for you not far 
away. 



QS POEMS. 



EXPRESSED FEELINGS OF MRS. MATILDA 

SMITH, FT. WORTH, TEX., AN AUNT OF 

MRS. LULA HANSON EDMUNDS, 

WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE 

OCT. 31, AT PARIS, TEX. 

Like a midnight prowling thief. 

Death, with cunning hand, 
Stole from us a precious gem. 

That shone in our land. 

Pure and spotless was this gem, 

Tender, young and gay, 
Only twenty-one was she, 
Making bright her way. 

Lulu Edmunds was her name. 

Loved by all, was she, 
From her birth unto her death, 

She was dear to me. 

One small spark fell from this gem, 

Nine months old, they say; 
Sweet and promising is she. 

Little Hilda May. 

Left she here a husband true, 

No doubt sad and grieved; 
Clarence Edmunds is the one. 

Who is now bereaved. 

While her mother was away 
In another town, 



POEMS. 69 



Angels bore her soul above, 
Where she'll wear her crown. 

Ah well, Death! your work is done, 
You made cold her frame; 

But her soul you cannot touch, 
Nor destroy her name. 

Yes, she's gone to realms above, 

But we're glad to know 
That her spirit has been washed 

Whiter than the snow. 



EXPRESSED FEELINGS OF MRS. A. C. ED- 
MUNDS, DAUGHTER OF THE DECEASED 
Wm. SCOTT, OF FORT WORTH, TEX. 

Now, Death, whom shall you visit next 

In our dear family? 
And at what time may we expect 

You as our company? 

say, thou uninvited guest! 

What shocks and pains you give; 
You heed not our earnest request 

To let us longer live. 

Only a little while ago, 

You came so suddenly. 
And with one fatal finished blow 

Made sad our family. 



^0 POEMS. 



Twas father whom you gave a stroke 
That chilled his feeble frame; 

Into our little flock you broke, 
And took away our claim. 

My Brother Charley, Brother John, 

Mother, Bess and I, 
And little sister, Mamie Scott, 

Were made to mourn and sigh. 

But Jesus Christ, who once lived here, 

Removed thy deathly sting, 
So that a Christian needs not fear 

To die and meet his King. 

Our father, William Scott, has gone 
To rest in that sweet clime, 

Where health and peace are ever known; 
To dwell with saints sublime. 



Forever will his teachings be \ 

My guide, my all, my own; 
I'll ever keep them hard by me, 

That my respects be shown. 



THE PASSING OF BROTHER HENRY 
TOBIN. 

One of God's lights, a shining beam, 

A ray from Jesus Christ, 
Has gone beyond the chilly stream 

To realms of Paradise. 



POEMS. 71 



Realms in which he has found the source, 
From which all blessings came; 

The fountain whence he got his force 
Before dea,th chilled his frame. 

His funeral was a simple one, 

His friends a faithful few; 
Life's battle hard he fought and won, 

With heaven in his view. 

No choir to chant the farewell hymn. 

No floral offerings seen; 
0, God, be merciful to them 

For some are cold, I ween. 

''Upon this rock I'll build my church," 
This text he found and preached; 

These dying words impressed me much. 
My aching heart they reached. 

His wife and little daughter came. 

While life was ebbing 'way; 
He recognized them just the same. 

And counselled them to pray. 

— By Request, 



A POEM OF SYMPATHY. 

I know of a woman most comely and fair, 
Yet bereaved of her husband and child; 

She wears an expression exceedingly rare, 
Which proves her to be very mild. 



I 

, 1 

72 POEMS. '- 



Like Ruth, slie was faithful to the last, j 

But knowing that God knows best, \ 

She is not worried about the things of the past, j 

Though they put her to a severe test. ^ 

May Arch-angels guide her in life's rugged path \ 

And help her the burdens to bear; i 

May she ever endeavor to escape God's wrath ^ 

And of all entrapments beware. j 

1 
May thoughts of the past give strength to her 

soul, \ 

And birth to new thoughts, good and true, j 

And may she not worry, but strive for the goal, \ 

For God will her spirit renew. . 



In my heart much sympathy is stored 

And reserved for those in distress; ] 

This I must prove ere I have reached my abode | 

And stand before God and confess. 'i 



DRAW THE LINE. I 



Draw ye the line, Oh, Christian host, 
And do not on large numbers boast; 
But separate yourselves from men. 
Who do not boldly condemn sin. 

Draw ye the line direct and clear, 
And do not hesitate and fear 
To exclude all who do not stand 
For righteousness as God has planned. 



POEMS. 73 \ 



Draw ye the line of self-respect, 
Your companions and friends select. 
No doubt 'twill some one-'s feelings hurt, 
But we should untrue friends desert. 

Draw ye the line and on the side 
Of righteousness and truth abide, 
And stay there if it costs your life 
To disapprove of sin and strife. 

Draw ye the line that will exclude 
Men of high ranks who will delude 
The race, from whom they got their start, 
Then for prosperity depart. 

Draw ye the line that will divide 
You from deceitful men who hide 
At times when you expect them most. 
To stand unswerved at duty's post. 

Draw ye the line though hissed and scorned, 
Don't join the world to be adorned 
With worldliness for outward show, 
But let the unreliable go. 

Draw ye the line though friends be lost. 
Don't hesitate nor count the cost; 
For we are in the field to fight. 
So don't expect to make a flight. 

Draw ye the line, for God has frowned 
Upon that class of men renowned 



74 POEMS. I 

^ ^ . ^ 

For p'ling up decaying wealth, 

Which they have gained by craft and stealth. : 

i i 

Draw ye the line e'en in your homes, i 

And don't admit that class who roams \ 

The districts of debauch and shame. -^ 

Then seek to wreck your family's name. j 

Now heed the lines inscribed above, 

And let your hearts be filled with love I 

For purity and lives divine; I 

And this will help you draw the line. \ 



A TRIBUTE TO THE LIFE OF THE LATE 

DEACON E. HINES, OF THE MT. GILEAD ] 

BAPTIST CHURCH, FT. WORTH, TEX. ; 

Ah, Father Time! thy cycle keen ] 

Has struck the fatal blow, i 

That in life's forest felled a tree 1 

Which we shall see no more. l 



Nay, not on this terrestrial ball, | 

Nor in this world of sin, i 

Where howling winds doth bend and shake ; 

The feeble frames of men. I 



Bait in that happy land of bliss. 
Where God and angels dwell. 

This faithful soul has gone to rest 
In peace. There all is well. 



POEMS. 75 



Some souls have in this forest fell ■ 

That no doubt we all miss ; i 

But who was not completely shocked - 

By such a fall as this? ; 

Yea, ev'ry fibre in our frame ^ 

Was surely made to thrill ; 

With pity, awe and tears of grief, ] 

But it was God's own will. \ 

Remember, friends, while standing by i 

The contribution table, i 

He said, "I may stand here no more, j 

For I may not be able.'* I 

Could you express your feelings when i 

He spoke those words so true? ^ 

Did not the fervor in those words ' 
Leave some sad thought with you ? 

How torpid is that soul w^ho can ] 

Not feel that sacred fire, I 

Or Holy Ghost of Christians who I 

Are ready to retire! ; 

Dear wife and relatives, weep not, 

For he has gone above, \ 

To join that great angelic host, i 

And sing the song of love. 

Secret Fraternal friends, I say: ( 
No grips nor pass-words can 



76 POEMS, 



Get his attention now, for he 
Has left this earthly clan. 

Rule on, thou God above, rule on! 

Thy weapon here with power 
Is striking down our choicest gems 

In some way, ev'ry hour. 



OUR HEROES. 

My friend, I am a bard unknown, 

Of African descent; 
They call me Negro, that's all right; 

'Tis him I represent. 
The name does not depreciate 

That patriotic zeal, 
Or love I bear my countrymen. 

Which is sincere and real. 

Below I flash on canvas white 

The heroes of my race; 
Great optimists who saw the future 

Blooming full of grace. 
These men by their undying deeds 

Have brought great things to past; 
And they've received some recognition 

From the world at last. 

Their faithful work is not in vain, 

For there are some results 
Of their heroic acts and deeds 



POEMS. 11 



Yet living 'midst insults; 
Their lives have proved that faith and works 

Will uplift any race 
Who is determined to rise up 

From folly and disgrace. 



He stirred the land of England 

With lectures that did appeal 
To gentlemen of note, who praised 

His noble wit and zeal; 
With eloquence he lifted them 

To realms where men are men, 
Where't makes no difference about 

The color of the skin. 

Permit me now to change the scene 

To hero number two; 
Paul Laurence Dunbar sang his songs 

Of ''Lowly life'' to you. 
"When Lindy sings" and ''Drowsy Day" 

Have made a lasting hit; 
"Ere sleep comes down to soothe the eyes" 

Shows his uncommon wit. 



Behold Fre-d Douglass on the scene, \ 

An orator of fame, ' 

Born in a lowly cabin, yet, ■ 

Built for himself a name. j 

Some inward feeling forced his soul j 

To rise up and decry j 

The promoters of slavery, ; 

Whose lash he did defy. 



78 POEMS, 



He went to England too and sang 

His "Lyres of lowly life;" 
Men heard his great poetic soul 

Ring like the shrill tones of fife. 
They looked beyond his slender frame 

To his immortal soul, 
And saw therein a predous gem, 

Which men did fain extol. 

Scene number three presents to you 

A man of humble birth; 
The most successful Negro man 

That ever lived on earth. 
'Tis Booker Washington, the man 

Who stirred the nations wide 
With ideas that give the race 

The greatest hope and pride. 

By using his best common sense 

And power to persuade, 
Great men of wealth and noble hearts 

To him attention paid; 
And when their confidence he'd gained, 

Their money freely went 
To help support the Institute 

Of which he's president. 

Let's change the scene to one who is 

Our literary choice; 
A literary genius is 

W. B. Du Bois. 
He drank like other geniuses 



POEMS. 79 



From pierian spring, 
And we shall ever hail him ag 
Our literary king. 

Then Thomas Fortune's brilliancy 

Is spreading o'er the land, 
Illuminating gloomy souls. 

Who need a helping hand. 
To lift them from despondency 

To heights encouraging, 
Where ignorance can never tread, 

For success rules as king. 

The next is Dr. E. C. Morris, 

A leader of note; 
With the united Baptist host 

To greatness without noise. 

And energy and will, 
They have condemned the pessimist 

For being hopeless still. 

Thank thee, Heroism, for thy tributes 

To the race. 
By thee our men have met life's problems 

Bravely, face to face. 
May thy great spirit be inspiring 

To our coming boys. 
That they may take a steady move 

He claims to hold the fort. 
He holds the gavel in his hand 



80 POEMS. 



And raps for order, and ; 

Nearly three million Baptists bow ^ 

Their heads at his command. * 

We have another genius that ' 

Is budding into fame; 

A young man of intelligence \ 

Whom we shall always claim, I 

As a product of Texas blood; i 

"A chip from the old block." j 

'Tis S. E. Griggs, an author, who ^ 

Came from no common stock. \ 

Then comes the Dr. R. H. Boyd, I 

A great founder is he; ' 

Who planned the famed publishing house ^ 

In Nashville, Tennessee. 1 
This house publishes literature 

That Negro brains produce, 
Which is sent out in quantities . j 

Each month, for our use. ] 

A man of God comes on the scene, ; 

A Christian too is he; ' 

A great divine of moral strength k 

Is the Bishop Tyree. i 

A power in both thought and deed, \ 

Rich in experience; j 

And one of the best traits of all \ 

He uses common sense. ; ^ 

•! 
i 

The Bishop Grant, whose sacred frame \ 

hies moulding in the clay, \ 



POEMS. 81 



Comes on the scene with noiseless steps, 

A soul in white array. 
His glowing deeds and acts divine 

With us shall always live; 
His life we'll try to emulate, 

And best attention give. 

And there are other heroes too, 

Whose deeds shine like the sun; 
I think the whole world needs to know 

What these brave men have done. 
Many heroic deeds are done 

Without one word of praise; 
Yet we enjoy the fruits they bear 

In many diff' rent ways. 

Fve no respect for brutal strength. 

When used by men for praise; 
Such should never be used at all 

In these enlightened days 
By the athletes, who punish men 

To make sport for the world; 
For such the guilty should be tried, 

And into prison hurled. 

But James B. Parker should be praised 

For his heroic deed; 
He struck a blow that downed a fiend 

Right in the time of need. 
He struck the patriotic blow 

The president to save. 



82 POEMS. 



But James is dead, and I am sure 
A hero fills his grave. 

You'll not forget the infantry 

That marched up San Juan Hill ; 
Unhesitatingly they climbed 

Their duties to fulfill. 
It had been said that they would flee 

When guns began to fire, 
But ah, the record made by them 

The world must now admire. 



Have we inventors in our race? | 

Indeed we have! just wait. i 

Elijah McCoy heads the list \ 

With patents twenty-eight; j 

Lubricating appliances for engines \ 

He improved; 

'Twas by this modern invention i 

That the whole world was moved. j 

Granville T. Wood (Black Edison), I 

Electrician of fame, 

Thooight out electric mysteries j 

And made patents for same. j 

He made improvements on important \ 

Instruments of use. ; 

This clearly shows you what the brain ; 

Of Negroes can produce. i 

George Murry, an ex-Congressman \ 

And an inventor too, i 



POEMS. 83 



Emancipated without parents, i 

He forged his way through. i 

And now he's stirring the whole South ] 

With eloquent appeals, j 

In ev*ry nook and ev'ry crook 

He's preaching **Race Ideals/' j 

" I 

O Heroism, sacred flame i 

That sets the soul afire, 
Thou glvest to determined men 

Whatever they desire; [ 

Thou hast rushed them into the very \ 

Jaws of death, and there ■ 

They stood unmoved at duty's post j 

Without fear or despair. 1 

Death even stares at thee surprised 

Before it undertakes 
To grasp thee with its mighty claws 

And thy gallantry 'wakes. 
Thy mighty deeds are recognized 

By God, the Infinite, ^ 

For thou art ev'ry Christian's hope ; 

And his chief requisite. i 

deeds of heroism's strength, ] 

How shine they like the sun! ; 

What everlasting monuments of fame 

That they have won! j 

By blood and brain and faultless work, 



84 POEMS. 



LOVERS EXPRESSION. 

Ho! there pretty maiden; 

Whither goest thou 
With thy cheeks a glowing, 

And thy ardent brow? 

Fairest among women, 

And stylish art thou; 
I would like to win thee. 

But I don't know how. 

Intellect the brightest. 
Charming art thy ways; 

Talented and gifted. 

As can be found these days. 

Comfort me with kindness, 
For I'm sick of love; 

Not fickled nor lustful. 
But like that above. 

Sweeter is thy singing 
Than the nightingale's; 

Blessed art thou by Nature 
With a voice that never fails. 

Beautiful and sky-blue 
Are thy charming eyes; 

Not 'a spot nor blemish 
In them to disguise. 



POEMS. 85 



Teeth like snaw thou showest, 

Pearls of lustre fine; i 

Life so pure and simiple ■ 

Makes thee look divine. '■ 



Thy heart must be honest; 

Else thou could not be 
Loved by everybody, 

And worshiped by me. 



FIRST LOVE. 

No impression is made so deep 
As the one made by first love; 

No strong passion through you can creep 
Like it, for it's from above. 



It is a spark from that great gem 
Of love, which God has made pure; 

It has been tried by rigid means, 
But it will always endure. 

How cold and torpid seems the one. 
Who has been warmed by its flame; 

But failed to recognize its worth. 
Or good to them when it came. 

The heart in some way was deprived, 
Or kept away from its choice; 

Or it was forced to take some one 
O'er whom it could not rejoice. 



86 POEMS, 



Nio man nor maiden can forget J 

The early pangs of first love; -' ] 

It sticks, it stays, it holds the place, j 

Its effects time cannot move. l 

i 
'^ 
I 

Blessed are they who now enjoy 1 

The fruits of youthful first love ; i 

They're fixed to live in harmony, \ 

Like God and angels above. i 

But 0, what wretchedness one feels, | 

When he has failed by slighting \ 

The one whom God ordained for him. 

How painful and benighting! \ 

1 
I 

I do believe without a doubt, 

That early, youthful first love 
Makes the deepest impressions on j 

The soul, which time cannot move. j 

1 
Many a modern thinker has 

Upon this subject pondered. j 

But all his theories have failed, \ 

And afterwards he wondered. ' 



Scientists are baffled by the term, 
"First love." They try to reason. 

That youthful passions are but dreams, 
Or fancies for a season. 



POEMS. 87 



But Cupid's arrow naturally 
Goes deepest in hearts tender; 

The arrow-head baptized in love, 
Makes any youth surrender. 

But how the arrow-head rebounds 
When it strikes hearts so hardened 

By intellect, age and mistrust, 
Which Cupid leaves unpardoned. 

'Tis like religion got in youth, 
Entwines with hearts so tender; 

And builds him up for usefulness, 
Magnificence and splendor. 



COMPANIONSHIP. 

Supply the heart which seeks companionship 
With one whom it can truly love and trust ; 

That it may from the purest fountain sip. 
Before you are returned to Mother Dust. 

Be very careful that you do not spurn 

Your ideal who may come to you disguised; 

Your pleading heart will surely cry and bum, 
And by it you will be rightly advised. 

Prepare your heart for that awful love shock, 
That soon or late may seize you with surprise ; 

Then all your future visions it will mock. 
And to them you will have to compromise. 

Some one, no doubt, is pining for your love, 
Whose heart is heaving long and restless 
sighs; 



88 POEMS. 



Some one is waiting patiently to prove 
That confidence in you within him lies. 

I know your heart is pleading 'gainst your will, 
For its ideal whom God alone ordained; 

So let it have its way that it might fill 

The soul with love by which it is sustained. 

We oft'ntimes look too high to well succeed, 
And fail to see the goal within our reach; 

The heart with fickle promises we feed, 
And it so many harmful things we teacl^ 

But ah! the soul cries out with threats and 

groans : 
"Give me the balm which soothes the troubled 

breast.*' 
And then it sighs with such distressful moans, 
That we find it impossible to rest. 

how distressfully beats the sad heart, 
When one against its earnest plea resists! 

'Tis useless to bid inward worries part. 
Since the soul for companionship insists. 

How strive the great contestants now within. 
True love against procrastination strives 

To conquer that which it has longed to w;n 
Of which the thief of time so soon deprives. 

What strange passions seize the helpless frame, 
When first the eyes are cast upon the one 



POEMS. 89 



Whom all the forces in our nature claint 
For its reward, which it has rightly won. 

There is a time and season to all things; 

Be careful for the two are flying fast. 
They both fly with their swift and speedy wings, 

And will a dreary gloom upon you cast. 



WOMAN. 



Woman! 
A better term for female kind 

Will ne'er on earth be given; 
Though we may search with thought and care, 

Till patient outworn and riven. 
The dripping essence of that word 

Is healthful, sweet and pure; 
Each drop is sacred love that will 

Eternally endure. 

The magic power in it is God's 

Mystery divine; 
That influential mystic touch of 

Woman will refine. 
The very roughest characters, 

With vain and uncouth ways, 
Respect her, when upon her moral charms 

They peer and gaze. 

Woman, fair woman! Who is she? 
A Holy Image once deceived, 



90 POEMS, 



Afterwards purified; 
A saint of w:hom the Christ was bom, 

And later glorified. 
The sacred soil from which a mighty 

Future race should come, 
Is woman, that fair instrument, 

Who makes the happy home. 

If man's successful, 'tis because 

Womian has made him so; 
Without her aid no doubt the man 

Would fall to rise no more. 
A tender touch from woman's hand 

Will give him vim and grit; 
He'll rise up from his stupor 

And among the great men sit. 

No fine church edifices would grace 

The city or the town; 
At no time could we point to men 

Of glory and renown, 
If women did not give to them 

The energy and zeal; 
And cheer them up when they are "blue," 

To make life seem more real. 

How blessed are the women who 
Give to the world great men! 

The noble blood that fills her veins. 
And tender heart within, 

Has produced heroes in our land, 
Of whom we should be proud; 



POEMS. 91 



And when we give them honor, \ 

We should sing their praises loud. j 

j 

< 

Oh woman, be thou ever closed in virtue's ] 

Holy Shrine! ^ 

But let your moral light through all i 

The windows brightly shine. ! 

Those brilliant beams will deep impressions i 

On the masses make; j 

And they will worship you for your own < 

Name and virtue's sake. \ 

i 

Thou hast the power to redeem man • 

From a lowly state. \ 

Then why don't thou redeem him now? j 

Why wilt thou longer wait? | 

If thou wilt cling to virtue true, I 

With all thy pow'r and might, 
Men will rise up to protect tL-ee, 

When thou art in the right. 

Thou art responsible for man's first i 

Hard and dreadful fall; 

The debt was made, but Christ came here ■ 

And died to pay it all. j 
But He is gone to Heav'n above while 

Man is falling still; \ 

He gave to thee redeeming love \ 

To save him if thou wilt. '^ 

When God in heaven shall declare 
That time shall be no more. 



92 POEMS. 



And when we hear that thrilling sound 
From Gabriel's trumpet flow, 

Let all the women who are Christians 
Form a mighty band, 

And lead the host of valiant men 
Into the promised land. 



DORINE. 



Ho, Dorine! thou sweet lily, all refreshed with 

morning dew; 
My heart is panting, soul is yearning for the love 

of you. 

Last night I dreamed of you, and 0, what bliss- 
ful joys untold, 

Came streaming into my lone heart to your sweet 
love unfold; 

I thought I saw ycu walking slowly through the 
land of dreams, 

Whose brilliant lights were sending forth their 
many golden beams; 

And ev'ry beam of that fair land directly fell on 
thee; 

Then thou reflected them in smiles which thou 
let fall on me. 

Yes, I received from thee sweet smiles, the es- 
sence of thy love; 

The drippings from that holy spring of that fair 
land above. 



POEMS. 93 



I drank and drank, but never tired, for it was 

fresh and fine; 
The taste was just as royail as that miraculous 

wine. 

Down on my knees I fell and stretched forth my 

strong arms to thee; 
Thy throbbing heart could not resist, for thou 

came unto me, 
And fell into these waiting arms which prest thee 

to my heart; 
And this I whispered in thy ear: "Love, we shall 

never part." 

Our two hearts beat in harmony each stroke the 

meter kept, 
And when I told my love to thee, how you 

sighed and wept; 
Those crystal tears flowed freely down and on 

thy heaving breast 
Were gathered. Then thou fell asleep and took 

thy peaceful rest. 

But ah ! Dorine, we were disturbed, I heard a call 

so rude, 
Which made me shudder while enwrapt in that 

delightful mood; 
I then awoke and found that it was just a 

pleasant dream, 
And yet I hope that dreams come true and be 

just what they seem. 



94 POEMS. 



THE FIERY GIRL. 

Have patience with the fiery girl; 

Do not keep her too dose. 
She's born with fire and energy, 

Which have a terrible force. 

By careful hands she must be taught 

To use her energy; 
For usefulness of great effect; 

But give her liberty. 

The greatest men of power and brain 

Had fiery p-assions too; 
But by these passions they have brought 

Some hidden things to view. 

The modern thought is not to hold 

A girl with a tight grasp; 
Nor try to crush her energy 

By life-destroying task. 

Direct her energy to good; 

Be not too rough nor mean. 
Be patient, and be careful, for 

Some good results you'll glean. 

How can you tell wh<at's in a girl 

Until she has been tried? 
You cannot tell what she will do 

'Till she leaves your fireside. 



POEMS, 95 



You've seen them kept under the lash 
Till they were grown; and then 

Those smothered flames of energy 
Brought forth a horrid sin. 

Some sins of yours that have been crushed 

Will burst forth in her life 
Like a volcanic eruption, 

Caused by an inward strife, 

The best instructions I can give 

To you, my friend, is this: 
Teach moral lessons to a girl 

Before she is called Miss. 

Begin these lessons when she's one, 
And teach them 'til she's twelve; 

Then daily lessons to her give, 
And in her heart they'll dwell. 

That fiery passion can't be helped; 

That energy and vim 
Were given her by nature's hand, 

And she will 'tend to them. 

There's no such thing as ^'whipping out" 

The "meanness" of a child; 
You add more fuel to the flames 

That once were burning mild. 

These observations I have giv'n 
My precious time and thought; 



96 POEMS, 



And great results may be derived, 
If they are nightly taught. 



A HAPPY HOME. 

! 

"I 

Tell me what makes a happy home, j 

Where consecrated love ] 

Makes sacred every cabin, and 

Sanctioned by God above? I 

Is it the costly things of life, i 

Or riches piled in heaps; ; 

That miake a home happy and bright, j 

And out of danger keep? \ 

I 
Are happy homes made by wrecked lives, ] 

Or unmatched married ties, \ 

Or by a wife who cannot show j 

Some kindness in her eyes? 

i 
Can any home be happy when \ 

The woman pays the bills, 1 

And lets her husband idly go, ; 

Caring not for her ills? 



Or can it be, the man works hard 

To satisfy his wi^e, 
While she makes home a wretched place 

By her ungrateful life? 

The man and wife should love the same; 
If this cannot be done. 



POEMS, ^1 



*Tis like a cart built for two wheels, l 

But tries to go on one. 

Home IS a place where man and wife, ] 

In unity and love, j 

Are happy when the days are dark, ' 

Then nuptial tie they prove. ! 

Home is the place where children love 

To go and be at rest; 
They hover 'round their mother's knee, 

For mother knows the best. 

Home is the place where prayer is taught 

To children in their youth; 
They learn to be obedient, 

And learn to tell the truth. 



Home is the place where father goes ! 

Before the clock strikes nine; 

He meets his wife, whose face is bright, i 

And tells her she looks fine. i 

Home is the place where mother loves I 



To spend most of her time. 
Her house is not a place in which 
There're misery and crime. 

I'm sorry for the man who has 
No place to call his home; 

But has to take what he can get. 
Or in this wide world roam. 



9S POEMS. 



The days of preparation pass, 

And yet he cannot see 
That worldly pleasures steal his wit, 

And give him misery. 



happy home, blessed home! 
Made sacred by God's love; 

1 hope that I'll remember thee 
When I am up above. 



FATHER SUN AND MOTHER EARTH. 

i' J 

Father Sun, and Mother Eiarth, 

Each is of a Godly birth ; 

One to transmit to the other 

That which comforts a good mother. 

Every necessary comfort 

Father Sun transmits to Earth, 

Is returned to Him in offsprings, 
Beautiful and full of mirth. 

m\ V ■ 

Yes, he spreads his mantle o'er her, 
Sunny rays of warmth and gold; 

Smiles he through the clouds above her, 
Glad her beauty to behold. 

She returns the smiles in blossoms, 

Beautiful of golden tint. 
Gold the essence of his mantle 

That he from the heavens sent. 



POEMS. 99 



By his warmth of ardent fervor ; 

Sent directly to the earth, \ 

We receive the blessings from him i 

That keep back the dreadful dearth. 

But sometimes we feel forsaken, 

When the dark clouds hide his rays, \ 

Leaving us to battle with the ^ 

Cold and bleakish, wintry days. ^! 

j 

Yet, when chances are presented, ! 

Through the crevices he smiles ; i 
Sweeter then are they than ever. 

Though away millions of miles. | 

Full six months sometimes he lingers j 

In the far and distant South; j 

Many times the rain is hindered, j 
Causing a distressful drouth. 

Yet, he leaves with us this message: 

"Never thou impatient be. i 

When Tve reached my southern limit, 

I will come nearer to thee.*' 

Mother Earth infolds her dear ones \ 

In her bosom to secure 

Them from rough and frigid weather, ! 

For the cold they can't endure. I 

We too get our share of comfort ■ 

By our labor, if we save 



100 POEMS, 

That which Earth has given to us 
With instructions to behave. 

So the Sun in matrimony 

Took to him for v^ife, the Earth; 
Which bears fruits of all description s, 

Some are valued at great v^orth. 



CHILDREN. 



As the dear old Mother Earth 
Gives to trees and flowers birth, 
Aided by the warmth of sun 
By whom she was wooed and won, 
So the human mother gives 
Birth to children while she lives; 
And the father, good and true, 
For their comfort will endure. 

As the tender branches grow, 
And the zephyr breezes blow, 
Giving health and strength to each, 
While with leafy hands they reach; 
So the little babies grow 
While God's blessings on them flow, 
Giving each instinct to learn 
Things for which their hearts do yearn, 

How sweetly the baby smiles, 
When the mother reconciles 
It with kind and soothing words. 
And its form she safely girds. 



POEMS. 101 



Don't get angry if it cries - 
While into the crib it lies; 
It has troubles of its own, 
And by crying they are known. 

Mark the woman who does not 
Love and cheer a little tot; 
She is dangerous and vain, 
Sly, distrustful and insane. 

Some would rather nurse a dog. 
Play with cats or pet a hog; 
Live disgraceful and defiled, 
Than to rear a loving child. 

Ah, we pray to God in vain, 
And do not our heights attain 
When we take not time to raise 
Children trained to give God praise. 

Oh, the sweetness of a child. 
Tender, innocent and mild! 
Jesus laid his hands on them 
When they were brought unto him. 

And the world; what will it be 

If the woman fails to see, 

That upon her it depends 

For the child she trains and sends? 



TAMPERING WITH THE MARRIAGE TIE. 

Don't tamper with the marriage tie; 
For danger and disgrace. 



102 POEMS. 



And no doubt death may be your lot; 
And next, God*s dreadful face. 

Some think it smart, some think it grand. 
Some think that they succeed, 

When by their charms and cunning plans 
They make some poor heart bleed. 

The eyes are blind, the wit unkeen, 

That cannot see the ball 
Or blade of steel that lay in wait 

To serve death's dreadful call. 

That strong desire of lustful flesih 
Drives the bad passions wild, 

Into some peaceful home to rob. 
And wreck lives undefiled. 

To wreck a home that love has made 

Is highway robbery. 
By brutish means you steal the gem 

That made the family. 

The woman who will alienate 

The husband of a sweet 
And cheerful wife of innocence, 

Will some day worse things meet. 

The man who yields to such a one 

Has need of self-control 
Over his passions, which increase 

The longing of his soul. 



POEMS. lOS 



'Tis foolishness of him who says, 
'I*ve just found my soul's mate;" 

Then shamefully mistreats his wife 
For some gay reprobate. 

A reprobate is one who seeks 
To break up family peace; 

She cares not for the golden rule, 
Nor does her flirting cease. 

But justice stands waiting for 

The woman or the man, 
Who breaks the holy nuptial tie 

By some disgraceful plan. 

So do not tamper with the tie 
That binds the man and wife; 

For you are tampering with Death, 
And making cheap your life. 



VIRTUE'S SYNONYM. 

The synonym of virtue is 

A maiden pure and fair; 
Whose chastity and self-resipect 

Direct her way with care. 

11 ' -if 
Where virtue has been neglected, 

No maiden can be true; 
For when it's lost to lust of flesh, 

A rapid fall is sure . 



104 POEMS. 



Ah maiden! hold to that which God 

Has given you to keep ; 
As long as breath keeps warm your frame, 

Don't let it from you creep. 

The greatest evil of the day, 
That's shocking nations wide, 

Is carelessness of maidens, who 
Do not with virtue 'bide. 

When virtue's lost, that honored name 

Is lost with it, you know; 
It can't be gotten back again 

Just as it was before. 

You'll weep and wail in misery ; 

The tears will freely flow; --^-^ 
But nothing can replace that name 

Just as it was before. 

Now is the time to virtue hold; 

Don't let it get away; 
Just hold to it with all your might, 

'Twill bring sunshine some day. 

Pay no attention to those smiles. 

Nor cute ways to deceive; 
They'll stain that maiden purity 

With sin that'll make you grieve. 

Humanity is being devoured 
By worldliness and shame; 



POEMS. 105 



'Tis all because our women do 
Not hold to their good name. 

Rome was the Mistress of the world, 

Till she her virtue lost; 
She was surprised when she began 

The counting up the cost. 

Social corruption took the place 
That virtue once enjoyed, 

And swayed the sceptre of despair, 
Which Rome could not avoid. 

So lustful passions take the place 

Of virtue, pure and fair; 
Ard steals a niaden's puiiLy, 

Leaving her in despair. 

When Lust comes in Virtue goes out; 

The two cannot agree. 
Virtue brings peace and quietness, 

While Lust brings misery. 

Virtue, would to God that thou 

Didst live in every home! 
Then woaild the family be true. 

And brighter days would come. 

Hold up the flag of purity, 

Ye women of our race! 
And fight against temptations bold, 

That meet you face to face. 



106 POEMS. 



BISSEXTILE. 

The Leap Years come and enliven the souls 

Of bachelor girls, like the wind does the coals 

That are smouldering under the ashes so griey, 

Awaiting a chance to shoot forth a ray ; 

Or a spark of love, by Cupid the god, 

And set aflame hearts that are so cold and hard. 

O how the breast of a bachelor heaves 
When cupid around his stupid heart weaves — 
A love-tangled net, complicated and strong; 
Then serenades him with a powerful song! 

Those love pangs of youth come with leaps and 

with bounds, 
And knock the man out in just one or two 

rounds ; 
Then a woman stands over him counting the 

time, 
And making the counts with the heart-beats to 

rhyme. 

Like an old-time machine set aside to decay, 
That cannot compete with the ones of today; 
Are gathered together and sold out for junk. 
So the bachelor and maid who've lost all their 
spunk. 

But mind you! this junk can be moulded anew; 
The defects all polished to be kept from view; 



POEMS. 107 



Then put on the market, like some are tonight, 
With faces all painted and cheerful and bright. 

God has made a help-mate for all, I am told ; 
No matter how ugly, how young, nor how old. 
But some are so foolish to try to select 
The mate of another, whom they can't respect. 

One should find his own mate, regardless of cost; 
In failing to do this, just think what is lost: 
A tonic, a love-balm, for mind and for heart, 
A solace, a comfort, a soul-stirring art. 



MAN, WOMAN AND THE SERPENT. 

Marriage, the Holy Tie of God, 

Was begun in creation; 
He made a woman of man's rib 

To make the combination. 

Flesh of man's flesh, bone of man's bone, 

To make the combination; 
He made her prettier than man 

To attract his attention. 

All God had made to please the man; 

The heavens and earth in motion. 
The insects, fowls and animals 

Did not get man's devotion. 

So woman was made for the man; 
Out of his side was she taken. 



108 POEMS, 



Clay of man's clay, flesh of man's flesh, 
Breath of man's breath, He made her. 

The only enemy of man 

At that time was a serpent; 

He conversed with the woman, and 
Some idle time with her spent. 

The man was absent at the time.. 
For had he then been present, 

The serpent then would not have told 
Her that the fruit was pleaisant. 

The serpent knew the woman's heart; 

He knew that she loved beauty. 
And when she craved the pleasant fruit 

To eat, thought she, 'tis duty. 

He magnified the beauty of 
The apples, just to fool her ; 

She then pulled one and took a bite, 
And cialled her husband to her. 

The silly man came walking up, 
And bewitched by her beauty. 

Was soon caught in the serpent's net, 
Which kept him from his duty. 

Late in the evening, God came down, 
And called for man whom He had made. 

He and his wife sat sad and 'lone 
Under the apple tree shade. 



POEMS. 109 



God asked the man about the fruit, 
But man said it was his wife 

Who urged him so to eat the fruit; 
Said she, ''It'll not take your life." 

God said to rran, 'Thou surely sbalt eat 
Bread by the sweat of thy brow." 

Then called He the woman to him, 
And said, "What hast thou done now?" 

Said she, "The serpent beguiled me, 

And I ate, so did man." 
Said He, "Thou too shalt not escape 

The punishment in my plan." 

Then came the subtle serpent's turn; 

Nothing of him was asked. 
But God said, "I will put on you 

A very rigid task." 

"The seed of the womian," said He, 
"Shall bruise the serpent's head." 

From that day 'till this present time, 
The devil has misled. 



THE IDEAL GIRL. 

. Like pure gold refined seven times. 
And from the dross is taken, 
Is a refined and Christian girl, 
Whose spirit is awaken 



110 POEMS. 



By moral longings of the soul; 

The elements of strength, 
That lift her high above reproach, 

To her ambitious length. 

Ambitions which cannot be crushed, 

Tho* eiarth with sin entice; 
If from a loyal heart they come 

To help and sacrifice. 
Her outward costume may not glare, 

Nor her physique attract; 
But in her hea;rt a record's made 

Of every moral act. 

She's like a very precious stone, 

Wrapped in some rugged form; 
Unnoticed, walked around and spurned, 

The surface has no charm; 
But ah! there lies within that form 

A sparkling diamond pure. 
Investigate, and you will find 

In her a heart as true. 

She stands a monumental stone 

Amid abuse and jeers; 
No loud **hurrahs" from men received, 

But in her soul she hears 
Applause, from angels above, 

And 'round God's glittering Throne, 
Where peace and unity abide, 

And love lives on and on. 



PEOMS. ill 



TURN LOOSE THAT HEART. 

girl, turn loose that heart of thine that many 
long to win; 

Turn loose that precious jewel that beats rest- 
lessly within. 

The breast of one true woer now is heaving rest- 
less sighs, 

And pleading for its mate, its own, in mournful, 
ceaseless cries. 

Enclosed within a vault of steel, does thy heart 

seem to be; 
But rest assured, my lady dear, that some one 

has the key 
That will unlock that vault, which keeps that 

valued gem confined; 
And it's the very key I know that Providence 

destined. 
Canst thou at ease live to thyself when some one 

seeks thy hand. 
Whose heart is crying for repose and love that 

will expand 
As long as warmth shall permeate the fibers of 

thy frame? 
E'en when thou shalt from this life depart, thou'll 

be loved just the same. 

Thou art a true and noble girl, pure as a faultless 

rose ; 
A man will have to be the same to win that love 

of yours. 



112 POEMS. 



Such men are scarce, but there is one whom 
thou canst love and trust; 

To spurn them all would not be right, but hurt- 
ful and unjust. 



MARRIAGE IN CREATION. 

On the sixth day of creation. 
Just before His finished pilan, 

Gk>d deferred His recreation 
Until He had made a man. 

Everything gave satisfaction. 

Earth and heavens all complete. 
Nothing brought about a faction, 

For the workmanship was neat. 

In the garden east of Eden, 

Put He man whom He had made. 

Of all the fruits he could have eaten, 
Except that which He forbade. 

This franchise did not suffice man; 

He was lonesome pining 'way. 
And he wondered, why in God's plan 

He was left alone to stay. 

All the beasts were matted rightly; 

All the birds happy and gay. 
And the insects, gay and sprightly, 

Sang to drive man's gloom away. 



POEMS. 113 



But the man still gloomy, dreary, ] 

Looked upon these things and frowned; ■ 

For they made his spirit weary, i 

And in them no joy he found. \ 

Then they met again in council. 

(Father, Son and Holy Ghost) 

There they planned for man a helpmeet, \ 

**For," said they, *'we love him most." j 

■] 

Then God put the man asleeping, 1 

And a rib was taken out; | 

Made He woman for his keeping, ; 

This pleased him without a doubt. ; 

When the man awoke and saw her \ 

Lying gently by his side, i 

His affection kindled for her, < 
And with her he did abide. 

But the woman, freak and cunning, ; 

Wanted everything slie saw; j 

This set Adam's mind a turning, \ 

And he broke God's holy law. 

\ 

Farther on in God's creation, i 

We see Isaac strolling way J 

'Cross the fields in meditation, ; 

Praying for a vnfe each day. \ 

Farther still, in God's creation, j 

We see Jacob at the well ; ] 



114 POEMS. 



He had reached his destination, 
When on RacheFs neck he feUl. 

Ruth, the faithful in creation, 

Showed much wisdom in her plan; 

Then for marriage correlation, 
Woman woos as well as man. 

Thus it goes in all creation; 

No man likes to be alone. 
And we find in every nation, 

That this work is going on. 



LOVE AN INWARD WORRY. 

All out' of sort is man, when love 
Takes full control within; 

And changes all his future plans. 
Then starts him out again. 

His mind is tangled like a web, 
His soul within him cries 

Just like a bird chirps for his mate, 
When far away she flies. 

He draws a long impatient breath. 
And heaves a restless sigh; 

His silly, worthless words escape, 
For nothing they imply. 

He soon retires but cannot sleep. 
But turns and rolls and turns; 



POEMS. 115 



And then he smiles and frowns and groans, \ 

His heart within him yearns. ' 

"Oh worries, let me rest/' says he; j 

''And let the sleep come down. I 

My soul is in a burning flame, | 

My face a fearful frown. j 

The dawn of day peeps in on him 

After a sleepless night; 1 

He rises, rubs his eyes and smiles, j 

And greets the morninng light. j 

Through all his daily work, he shows i 

His worries mixed with smiles; I 

A combination that reflects J 

His worthless plans in piles. ! 

My friend, if you have never felt | 

The worries named above, 

Just rest assured that you have not | 

As yet been stirred by love. ; 

LOVE'S REQUISITE. ; 

i 

To get the essence of true love j 

And to its sweetness hold, I 

We must bear all the pains it gives ; 

To be shaped in its mold. i 

True love requires great sacrifice 

For its devotions true; j 



116 POEMS, 



It conquers every mortars heart 
With happiness in view. 

Only a few will undergo 

Love's rigid requisites; 
To taste the healthful fruits it bears 

And all its benefits. 

Love cares not for the gay costumes, 
In such no heart can trust; 

It spurns and scorns the finest dressed, 
Who fan the flames of lust. 

Those dreamy eyes and glowing cheeks 

Are forces hard to shun; 
B'ut these will quickly fade away 

Before a trying sun. 

So many hearts are bleeding now, 
And cheeks are pale and thin, 

Because deception with its fangs 
Of poison, works within. 

Love is a flame that must be fed 
With kindness from thei start; 

And every day add little more 
To soothe the wanting heart. 

It has a craving appetite, 

That cannot be sufficed 
By food unpleasant to the taste, 

No matter how enticed. 



POEMS. 117 



It wanders lonely through the vvorld, 

Seeking with care to see 
If this or that is its ideal, 

And asking, 'Is it he?'' 

And when discouraged in the search, 

It takes a substitute; 
But this will only last until 

The one comes that will suit. 

No power on earth, nor aught but death, 

Can keep' two souls apart. 
Who are determined to unite 

To satisfy the heart. 



LOVE'S MISTAKES. 

\ 
I saw a maiden tripping on, | 

So sprightly and so gay, ) 

The distant hills echoed the song I 

That she sang on her way. i 

A Fairy from above, thought I, 

Who must have lost her way; 
But if she's lost, pray tell me why 

She looks so blithe and gay? 

I slightly made a noise to see : 

This maiden's charming eyes; \ 

Her gaze just captivated me; I 

She's hard to realize. \ 



118 POEMS, 



Her form was perfect, face was fair, 

A gracefoil walk had she; 
Her queenly look and coal black hair 

Just won my heart and me. 

She vanished from my sight at once, 

More quickly than she came; 
And left me there a silly dunce, 

Alone, without her name. 

She left a yearning in my breast, 

That I could not control; 
My throbbing heart was put to test, 

And mind began to stroll. 

''My God!'' thought I; ^'what shall I do. 

Or whither shall I go?" 
Her presence shocked me through and through. 

Her absence made me sore. 

So off I went alone to sit 

Awhile in solitude. 
And while I sat, I used my wit, 

To know how to conclude. 

I wondered what impression I 

Had made upon this maid; 
My mind I could not saJtisfy, 

Because I needed aid. 

So just to give my heart relief, 
I went to an old man 



POEMS. 119 



And told him all about my grief, 
How that it through me ran. 

Said he, ''My lad, you are deceivied; 

This maiden whom you saw. 
Would ever make you sad and grieved, 

And fill your heart with awe ! 

"So many promising young men 
Have been caught in her net. 

Her cunning ways have made her win 
Some hearts that I regret. 

"Now flee from her or you'll be caught, 

And to disgrace and shame 
Be tormentted, tortured and brought 

To her disgraceful aim." 

I was not disobedient. 

For this was good advice; 
It was to him for this I went, 

His story did suffice. 

Then the excitement from me ran, 
My yearning heart got ease; 

And from now on, Fll always plan 
To shun such sights as these. 



A LEAP YEAR POEM. 
WOMAN'S INSTRUCTION TO CUPID. 

'Tis Leap Year, and the women plan 
To take snme lucky shots at man ; 



120 POEMS. 



They, with the little "love-god" met, 

And said to him: "Your arrows whet 

So keen, that when they swiftly dart, 

They'll strike the men right through the heart. 

Now use your wit and skillful ^ye, 

Because upon you we must rely. 

"Submerge the arrow-heads in love; 
That sacred fluid from above, 
Then place one gently on your bow, 
And pull the string and let it go. 
You'll note the tremor of the string. 
How the echoes of success ring 
In harmony with love's reply 
To every wooing tear and sigh. 

"Shoot every single man you see, 
Don't miss a one, we instruct thee; 
We have a mate for every one, 
So shoot them all and leave out none. 
You may find Taulites' among them, 
But shoot them, too, with all your vim, 
Just capture every one you see — 
Don't let a single man go free. 

"Widowers and bachelors we need, 
We'll mate thetm well, yes, indeed; 
It matters not about the age. 
Just so he has a cosy cage. 
Now carry these strict orders out, 
'Tis your mission, without a doubt; 



POEMS, 121 



Report to us at every meeting, 

And we'll give thee a merry greeting.*' 



KISS. 



Kiss is a stimulant that thrills 

The fibres of the soul; 
The effects are so wonderful 

That we cannot control 
The throbbing heart that burns witliin 

An e'er echoing breast; 
'Tis then warm lips bestir themselves 

To answer the request. 

Kiss is an act that has been used 

For ages, ages past; 
A salutation that has stood, 

And will forever last 
Through ages yet to come; 

Tho' corrupted it be, 
The form and fashion v/ill remain 

Throughout eternity. 

'Tis one example of true love, 

When rightly 'tis applied; 
On Rachers cheek Jacob did place 

A warm one with much pride. 
God had no objections to it, 

For he, with motive pure, 
Applied it with no thought of lust. 

Or disgrace in his view. 



122 POEMS. 



Like everything, it has two sides; 
One dark, the other bright. 

The dark one leads us to despair, 

The bright one to delight. 
Kissing is nature's choicest gift 

To every man and maid; 
A privilege which they all like ; 

Of it be not afraid. 
I sometimes wonder if it's not 

Practiced in hea'en above. 
When all the saints and angels meet 

And kiss with godly love. 



THE JUICY POSSUM. 

De day am cold and de rgound am very wet, 

But I hab de biggest possum in de country, I bet. 

Wy de scent from dat possum amer making me 
grin, 

An de ¥/ay Ise gwinter stroy him, it is er terri- 
ble sin. 

Stir up de embers, Sally, so de steam kin play 

de chune 
Tween de pot an de kiver, lacker mocking bird 

in June. 
Git er long dar, juicy possum, I kin see your 

finish now; 
Caint let Moriah cook you, fur she simply donno 

how. 



POEMS. 123 



Jenny, git dem taters ready, an don't peel 'em all 

er way. 
Fur de possum's most ready in de skillet he 

must lay. 
Now slice 'em in four quarters, so dey all kin 

la&r erroundj ' 

Some berhind him, some berfore him, some on 

top ter hole 'im down. 

Whatcher laughin 'bout dar, Lizzy, am er lookins^ 

melanchol? 
You might ez well git bizzy wid yer juice^harp 

an yer doll. 
Fur dar's gwinter be no possum left, no taters, 

neither scent. 
Case de way dis darkey's feeling now, he aint 

gwine take no hint. 
Bring me de long fork. Sambo, fur de possum's 

ready now. 
I'll raze him out dis ju'cy stuff, dat's wriggtling 

on his brow. 
Now I'll put him in de skillet, and lay dem taters 

round, 
Den I'll put de led on top ob him, caze it will 

hold him down. 
Now you set de table, Nancy, put one knife, one 

fork, and spoon; 
Fur dat am all dat's necessary fur dis Texas 

coon. 
Put salt, an pepper, f»n er pone-cake on de side; 
Den I'll close mer eyes an stretch mer mouth, 

an let dat possum slide. 



124 POEMS. 



I'll open up dis possum now. Umph! it am 

simply line; 
I neanter be uneasy becaze all dis possum's mine, 
ril put him on de table now, and go out ter de 

lot, 
I want ter eat his possum now, but he am most 

too hot. 

Flapjacks amer sassy dish; wid lasses dey want 

hurt ; 
ril save 'em last to finish up, fur dey am my 

deserts. 
I won't be gone so very long, you'll hardly miss 

de time; 
I hate ter go fur I feel lack I'se bout to do er 

crime. 

Tell Sarah Jane to close dat door, and don let 

Fido in, 
Fud if dat dog eats up my heart, I'll send you 

to de penn; 
You must not eben look dat way, w^hile I is at de 

lot. 
I'd better put er sign on him, dat says, "Don't 

tech me not." 

Woe, Kit! now don't yer fool wid me, fur you will 

git me wrong; 
I'se gotter go back ter de house, I'se sked ter 

stay too long, 
Case dat possum's tied er waiting now, I speck 

he's done got cool. 
I hab er cuis feeling now, and I'se hard ter fool. 



POEMS, 125 



Land sakes! Whars dat possum dat I left here 
while er go, 

And whars dem chilluns and dat dog, does any- 
body know? 

No scent am left ter tell de tale, no taters can 
be foun, 

ril kill dem chilluns and dat dog, before de sun 
goes down. 



DONE QUIT RAISING CHILLUNS. 

Dat folkes done quit raising chilluns. 
It amer fact widout er dout; 

Fur when you tell dem bout dere mannus, 
Dey jes stick out dere mouf an pout. 

Dere mammies tell dem dey am angels. 
An do not teach dem how ter work; 

Dey cram dere heads wid edication, 
An honest ployment dey will shirk. 

De gals an boys go to de cities, 

An leave dere country homes an farms; 

Dey see dem lectric hghts er shining, 
An to dem bad places dey swarms. 

Dey furgits mammie, furgit daddy, 
Furgits church an Sunday school; 

Dey furgits e'c^erything dats decent. 
Gaze city life turns dem a fool. 



126 POEMS. 



Dey go on wid dere foolish capers, 
Until dey run 'gainst something bad; 

Den when dey's bout gone to destruction, 
Dey think erbout dere mam an dad. 

But when some gits in high sercity, 
Dey's shame ter tell where dey come from ; 

Dey'll tell you dey's razed in de city, 
But dey kin make de cotton hum. 

Some stretch dere necks wid standing collars, 
An stand er way back on dere hocks; 

But ef dey wuster ter be examined. 
You'd find no underwear, nor socks. 

De Hoodlum wagon is kept busy, 
Er hauling vagrants ter de jail; 

While dere poor mammies keeps er begging. 
Some rich white man ter go dere bail. 

Dey country gals go to de cities, 

Jes as green as dey kin be; 
Dere heads is turned ail tipsy topsy, 

When all dem puddy things dey see. 

Den all de sports an dudes gits busy, 

An scourts dem country gals er bout; 
Den when dey gits dem crazy bout dem, 
Dey takes dem gals an hies dem out. 

Dat's jes de cause ob all dis trouble, 
Dat cullid folkes always hab; 



POEMS. 127 



Dey love ter crowd up in de cities, 
An in white folkes bizness dab. 

Fs got one boy, his name is Sambo; 

I'se gwinter treat him right I know. 
But when dat boy talks bout de city, 

ril make him use de gruben hoe. 



LAUGHING SAM. 

Now shut your mouth, and be right calm, 
Wliile I tell you 'bout laughing Sam. 
He is a man of robust health, 
And cares nothing for style nor wealth. 

He lives with his old Grandma Jane, 
Who lives down on the cottage lane. 
She knits his socks and makes his clothes, 
But how she lives nobody knows. 

Now Sam is from a laughing stock; 
He wears a dirby and a frock. 
And pulls his dirby o'er his ear, 
And goes barefooted all the year. 

And he will laugh at anything; 

A preacher, president, or king. 

He cares not for the when nor where, 

But laugh the same he does not care. 

Well, Sam asked me to let him go 
With me to see the minstrel show: 



128 POEMS, 



Said he, '1 won't disturb de peace, 
Fur dar you know is de police.'' 

I was afraid to trust old Sam, 
For once he got me in a jam. 
For which I had to pay a fine; 
Then said he: ''It's no fault er mine." 

But anyway I let Sam go 

With me, to see the minstrel show. 
Before the show got started good. 
It looked like die that fellow would. 

He started off with a ''he he," 
Then on a sly he looked at me; 
And afterwards, a loud "ho, ho!" 
Then stretch his mouth and let her go. 

And after that he laughed so loud. 
Til he just frightened the whole crowd. 
He turned again and looked at me, 
And ended with a loud whoopee! 

He clapped his hands and stamped his feet. 
And just completely wrecked the seat; 
He stood up and then yeiTled out right. 
And gracious! what a fearful sight. 



They had to let the curtains down 

Because the actors stopped to frown. \ 

The people then begin to shout, 1 

"0 police, put that Negro out." \ 



POEMS. 129 



The police walked up with a vim, 
And took a vicious hold on him; 
Then pushed him forward to the door, 
Then, oh how laughing Sam did roar! 

'Ihen up came the police patrol, 
And gracious, how Sam's eyes did roll! 
The police said to him, "Get in." 
And Sam began to laugh again. 

Away they carried him to jail, 
And right behind him men did trail. 
The mam who raised Sam, said, "You pup, 
You shall not lock that Negro up.*' 

Said he, "Sam has done nothing wrong. 
So turn him loose and get along; 
I'll pay you for those broken seats, 
You men are regular old cheats." 

The policemen turned Sam loose, 
And said, "Now go, you silly goose." 
Sam laughed again, and walked across, 
And with a grin, said, "Thank yer. Boss." 



A FRETFUL CHILD OF FOUR. 

Me am so tied er staying here 
All locked up in dis yard; 

Me wanter go ter play vni Jack, 
Dood dracious aint it hard? 



130 POEMS, 



Me want my yittle stockings on, 

And yittle slippers, too; 
Me want some tandy and some take 

Me want some gum ter chew. 

yond's de watermelon man, 

mama, dit me one! 
And yond's de hottemolla man, 

m^ma, dit me some. 

Me wish: my papa would come on, 

He moist be at de lodge; 
My mama's going ter fuss wif him. 

He neanter tryter dodge. 

Mama, you am so dood and sweet, 

Now tan me go ter play? 
Me will come home at free o'clock, 

Me show want stay all day. 

Mama, aint papa got no sense? 

You told him dat last night; 
But he told you ter tut dat out, 

Don't you and him would fight. 

mama! me am going ter hush! 

Don't hit me on de head ! 
Me didn't know dat would make you mad. 

But dat's what papa said. 

You go wight back, old ugly Jack ! 
Me aint dwine play wif you; 



POEMS. 131 



You hit my dog and hurt my cat, 
And made me go, boo, hoo-oo. 

Mamma, give me a nickle please, 

So I can dit some cream. 
Me am so hot and feel so bad 

Tell me am bouter scream. 

0, Mr. God, do tell me why 

My mamma is so mean? 
She is de stingest, closest thing 

Dat I have ever seen. 

Nemine, me will be grown some day, 
And me want hafter beg 

Mamma ter let me go ter play 
Er game er mumble-peg. 



TOM FOOL. 



Tom Fool went dowm the streets one day, 
A walking in a frightful way; 
Said he, '*Ise looking fur some work 
An roun' dis bureau Ise gwine lurk." 

The man who sought for Tom a job, 
Seeing him with a tear and sob, 
Said this to him : '*I pity you, 
T hate to see you look so blue." 



132 POEMS. 



Then some on© called him to the phone. 
It was a Jew, whose name was Rone; 
Said he, *'I want a bully boy, 
No other kind will I employ." 

''Now, Tom,'' said he, "good luck to you. 
You have employment from a Jew; 
Just go right up and see the man, 
And try to please him, if you can." 

Tom thanked the man and started out, 
That he was pleased there is no doubt ; 
For he went grinning up the street, 
Knocking a tattoo with his feet. 

Tom Fool soon found the wanted place 
And met the Jew, face to face. 
**Well," said the Jew, ''what is your name?' 
"Tom P'ool," said he, with vim and game. 

"Well then, Tom Fool, what can you do?" 
Came the next question from the Jew. 
"Most anything," said Tom to him, 
And he spoke it with grit and vim. 

"Most anything? Well what is that " 
Said Rone, the Jew, who fixed his hat. 
"Most anything you have ter do," 
Answered Tom Fool to Rone, the Jew. 

"Before I hire you," said the Jew, 
"I'll put some test questions to you." 



POEMS. 133 



"All right," said Tom, ''just roll 'em out, 
ril answer them widout er doubt." 

"Now ducks and geese we dearly love, 
And just to your good wisdom prove, 
If I'd ask you to give them food 
What would you give to them, old Dude?" 

"I'd give them hay," said Tom to him, 
"For I know it would fatten them. 
An' it gives strength to geeses' jaw, 
An' too I love ter see 'em chaw." 

The Jew proceeded to the next. 
But he was sure surprised and vexed. 
"Do ducks and 'geeses' shun the water?" 
"0 yes!" said Tom, "I think they oughter." 

"I once seen one plunge in er pool, 
An' I staid dare ter watch de fool. 
I stood and watched de very spot. 
But if he's riz I seed it not." 

The puzzled Jew then shook his head, 
And with a frown and sigh, he said: 
"That's pretty good, my boy, for you ; 
Now answer question number two." 

"All right," said Tom, "jes let it come. 
Fur I show feel like going some; 
ril jes put on my thinking cap 
An' prove dat Ise er witty chap." 



134 POEMS. 



**I have two horses," said the Jew, 
*The one named Frank, the other True ; 
I love them both and treat them right, 
And keep them looking gay and spright. 

''Now will you take the greatest care 
Of these two horses, and beware 
That you do not feed them too much? 
For I do not believe in such." 

'1 will,'' said Tom, "with alil my heart, 
ril feed them scarcely on the starit. 
An* then hold up fer er few days, 

An' turn 'em out ter let 'em graze. 

"I'll let them eat grass to dere fill, 
It will save you a big feed bill. 
I'll give 'em salt and soda too. 
It'll put the fire in Frank and True. 

"Dar's other things that I can do," 

Said the young fellow to the Jew; 

"I can whistle, I can sing, 

I can cut the pigeon wing. 

I can stand upon my head, 

I can wiggle, I can tread ; 

I can run lacker race hoss, 

I can eben whip de boss; 

I can walk upon a wire, 

I can set yo' house on fire; 

I can take er automatic ^ 



POEMS, 135 



An' clean house from base to attic ; 

I can speak to eny tree 

An' it will come straight to me ; 

Now to tell de truf to you, 

I jes simply hate a Jew." 

"Enough of you, enough of you! 

I do not want you," said the Jew. 

"If you should go through all the schools, 

You still would be the king of fools." 



A SHOE PROBLEM. 

I went ter town de udder day 
Ter git mer wife some shoes, 

But, good greshus, what a time! 
I almost had de blues. 

I tuck meager ob one foot; 

It meagered six plus fo. 
She sed ter me, "Show gitem right, 

Er don come home no mo." 

I found sicher diffunts in her foots, 
Tell I sed, "Sakes er live, 

De udder foot wuz six plus fo. 
Now dis one's eight plus five." 

I had er problem on my hands; 
Er hard one, ton, you bet. 



136 POEMS. 



But I jeis had ter work it out, 
It wuz no use to fret. 

So off I went wid vim and grit 

Ter work dat problem out; 
But as I told you, it show wuz 

Er job widout er dout. 

I searched de biggest store in town 

Fur er thirteen and ten. 
De clerks all looked at me and said, 

''Say, uncle, whars you been?'' 

I told dem dat I'd been at home, 

Wid Sara Jane, my wife, 
But she had sicher temper dat 

I did not enjoy life. 

Dey sed, "I knowed dars something wrong; 

Yo wife is not made right." 
Den I sed: ''Man, don talk dat way, 

Fur you'll have me ter fight." 

I told dem dat I loved my Jane, 

Her foots suits me alright; 
And I'll git shoes ter fit dem both, 

Er stay in town all night. 

Den off I went wid courage bold, 

Ter try er nudder store; 
But met de same discouragement 

Dat I had met before. 



POEMS. m 



I tried ergin, and tried ergin, 

Den tried ergin, and den 
I went right back ter de same ,store, 

And dem clerks sed, "Come in." 

Dey ast me had I found mer shoes, 

And I sed, ''fotchet, no;'* 
Den dey sed, ''Well, don talk so mean. 

And do not worry so." 

Dey sed dat dey had worked it out, 
De shoes would cost me more. 

And I sed, *'Tell it den ter me 
Fur I hab got de dough." 

"One shoe must be a ten," said dey, 
"And one number thirteen; 

So you will have ter git two pair; 
Now sharpen your wit keen." 

"You sed you'd have ter pay for dem, 

Two dollars and er half. 
Now when we work this problem out. 

You show is gw inter laugh. 

"You git one paiir, let ihem be tens, 

De udder pair thirteen ; 
Den take one shoe from each of dem. 

Do you see what I mean ?" 

"Yas, Boss," sed I, "I see it now, 
Well I do jes declare! 



138 POEMS. 



Two ob dem shoes won't mate so well, 
But we'll make right one pair." 

So dar went mer five dollar bill, 

I paid him fur both pair. 
Den off fur home I started out, 

And left dem laughing dare. 

I stored de mismatch pair erway 

In de hay bam erlone, 
And cared mer wife de udder pair. 

And dar she tried dem on. 

Dey jes fit her, you bet dey did; 

No wrinkles could we see. 
She wuz so pleased tell she jes had 

Ter jump up and kiss me. 
Before dis time, I had ter have 

Her shoes made at de shop; 
But my! dey gin ter charge so much 

Tell I jes had ter stop. 
But I hab learnt er lesson now, 

Dat I will not furget; 
I learnt ter work er shoe problem 

Dat makes me proud you bet. 



A HINT TO PREACHERS. 

''Hock mer God er looker yonder chilluns 
Aint no preaching now er days; 

Taint lack eating water milluns; 

You must splain jes what you say. 



POEMS. 139 



Collud folks am whole lots wizer 
Den dey wuz in slavery days; 

Dey am grasping lacker mizer 
After sense, fur it show pays. 

When you stand up in the pulpit, 
You don*t hafter stomp and ball ; 

Take yer time and try ter preach it 
Lack er man dat's heared de call. 

Den you must stop drinking licker, 

An er telling funny lies 
Jes ter make dem folkes snicker, 

Den set down and wink yer eyes. 

When you try ter press de people, 
Keep your finger out your year ; 

Do not bray, and ball, and hickle. 
Fur de folkes aint hard ter hear. 

Don't spit on de pulpit carpet, 
Den slick it over wid yer feet; 

You will kill de spirit, mark it, 
Den you'll hafter take yer seat. 

Don't yer lose your temper, preacher, 
When de election's kiner slim; 

Youse no more no udder creature. 
And dare money blongst ter dem. 

When yer have reached your conclugun 
In your sermon, den set down: 



140 POEMS. 



Don't stand dar an make confugun, 
Den look foolish lack er clown. 



THE BONELESS HAM, 

De thing dat makes me say am, AM ! 
Is er ripe and juicy boneless ham; 
Go ter de patch jes fore day, 
And fetch de biggest one erway. 

Den lay it softly on de ice. 
And turn it over once or twice; 
Den when its cold, ter it attend. 
By ripping it from end ter end. 

Den call me in ter take er eat, 
And squar yosef ter see me eat; 
De juice will overflow my mouf, 
But sicli is ofen seen down souf. 

Now git er pan ter cetch de seed, 
Dey leaves my mouf wid sicher speed 
Tell when de stracks what dey falls in, 
Dey bounce clear back ter me ergin, 

Ef juice falls down into my llap', 
Don*t bother me, jes let it drap; 
De most ob it is gwine inside, 
It helps de meat and seeds ter slide. 



POEMS. 141 



Dat Adam's apple in my thote, 
Jes plaj^s er chune widout er note; 
It works itsef right up and down, 
And makes a terble googling soun'. 

It sends de juice ter de right place, 
Den I expand and den unlace 
My belt, and coat, and everything; 
Dis will give me er better swing. 

Den when Tse done, and feeling fine, 
Jes send some one ter get de rine; 
And take er way de pan and seed 
Caze I'se done certny done de deed. 



rSE DONE SHO'LY LOSE MY GAL. 

Fse done sho'ly loss my gal. 

Hit taint no joke dis time ; 
Dis heart uv mine is lack er bell 

Dat's cracked an' lost its chime. 

Las' night I rapped on Sally's do,' 

An' she said, ''Who is dat?" 
I says ter her, "'Sweet, dis is me, 

Fse jes here fur er chat.'' 

She says ter me, "You caint come in 

Caze I has companee." 
Land sakes! dat word jes sound so sharp 

Tell hit went clean through me. 



142 POEMS. 



Dar's sumphen riz up in my throat 

Dat nearly choked me dead; 
My heart jes swelled an* swelled an' swdled 

Tell hit jes felt lack lead. 

I tried ter keep my temper down, 

An* practice self-control; 
But I'se so jellis uv dat gal 

Tell I hurt ter my soul. 

*'You is excused ternight," says she; 

Don't bother 'round my do^, 
Caze when I'se ready ter see you 

I'll sho'ly let you know." 

Now dat vexed me clear to my bones; 

I jes got raving mad, 
An' kicked dat do' dat kept me out, 

Wid all de grit I had. 

But oh! I lack to broke my foot, 

Dat do' was cert'ny barred; 
Caze I sho' tried ter kick hit down; 

I sho'ly struck it hard. 

Den jes ter tease me, Sally said — 
Ter dat ole guy inside: 
"Oh sweetheart, you'se my only love, 
I'll always wid you 'bide." 

Den he said, "Kiss me den ter prove 
Pat you is mine always." 



POEMS. 14S 



I be'ed right still ter cetch de sound, 
An* through de crack I gazed. 

I heard it, sho's you bone I did! 

Seems lack I hear it still; 
It jes shook me clean off de steps, 

Pears lack I had er chill. 

Bar's nothing stirring wid dat do,* 
Hit felt lack hit wuz barred 

Wid forty thousand pouns er lead, 
Ter my progress retard. 

I heard dem in dar sniggerling, 

An' poking fun at me; 
Oh you don no how bad I felt 

In all dat misery. 

Dat gal's papa come in from town, 
Or from some other place; 

An' wid er stare, he looked at me 
Wid danger in his face. 

Said he, ''Has you jes took my place 

An' got it in yo charge? 
It jes seems lack dat you's done let 

Yo' britches git too large." 

Den wid his walking stick, he drawed, 
An* whaled me once or twice; 

An' den said: "Go, you rascal you, 
I guess dat will suffice." 



144 POEMS. 



He would not let me 'sfplain ter him, 

Nor beg his ^pologee; 
But jes drawed back dat stick ergin 

An' wore it out on me. 

I tell you, I wuz glad ter git 

Erway from dat ole men ; 
You oughter been hid out somewhere 

Ter see dis nigger ran. 

"Erway !" said he, "you lazy scamp ! 

Now don't come here no more, 
I do not want you on my place, 

Nor fooling 'round my do.' " 



I sho'ly got de wust uv it, 
Jes oner count uv Sal; 

But I'll git even wit dat dude 
Dat beat me out dat gal. 



CAN'T FOOL 'EM. 

Ah 'giter long from here, white man 

You'se fooled me long er nuf, 
I'ser bout done quit er drinking 

Dat delaperdafting stuff. 
You gimme de wust whiskey 

Dat you'se got behind de bar; 
And when I takes a drink ob it. 

It sets me on er fire. 



POEMS, 145 



Now Fse gwinter show yer all de grit, \ 

Dat I hab down in my craw; \ 

And you neanter tell me "shut up, i 

Don't yer gib me any jaw;" 

Fur I'se stood dis whiskey bizness ; 

Tell I'se bouter got my fill, 

And now I'll help ter vote it out, i 

I know it's ginst yo will. \ 

All de decent darkies tells me j 

Dat dey's gwinter vote like me; \ 

Dat dey's gwinter stop er fooling wid ] 

De man dat sells whiskee; j 

Case it takes all dey kin rake and scrape ] 

Ter live er happy life, 
Fur dey hafter work like Trojans, 

Den can't satisfy dere wife. 

Doc Williams s^d de udder night 

Dat he stood firm and strong I 

Er ginst de whiskey traffic and j 

Eberything dats wrong. I 
All de sloon niggers is awfully skeered, 

Case Doctor talks diat way ; 

Dey wanter spute his augerment, ; 

But don't know whater siay. i 

I 

I walked down Thirteefnth street terday, ] 

And looked upon a ba'l, ' : 

And dare I seed a darkie drunk, i 

And talkin bout his gal; j 

i 
i 



146 POEMS. 



I slipped up close and looked at him, 

And listen fur ter hear, 
And bless my soul, dat darkie sed, 

He'd sell his wife fur beer. 

I went straight ter dat darkey's house, 

And what you reggin I seed? 
I seed his wife all closed in rags, 

A fearful sight indeed. 
De bed was propped up wid er box, 

No paper on de wall ; 
H's yard all growd up full er weeds, 

And house er bout er fall. 

Shur, white man, git er long from here. 

And talk ter me on mo*; 
Dis darkey's mine is made up now 
Ter gib de sloon er blow. 

pinted time, makase and come! 
So I kin poll my vote. 

1 paid my poll tax long ergo. 
And kin efford ter dote. 

Dem "anti" niggers should be cot 

And tied up in er sac. 
And hit one thousand lashes wid 

Er strap right on de back; 
De debil oughter git dem all 

And roast dem in de fire; 
Num mine de Lord will make dem come 

Before de judgmen bar. 



POEMS, 147 



FIDDLING JOE. 

listen! to this story true; 
You'll crack yo side fo I git thru; 
You'll laugh clear out of breath I know, 
When I tell you bout fiddling joe. 

NiO year kin ever ketch er chune; 
No man kin win yo heart so soon; 
Er gal will natchly quit her beau, 
And run clear off wid fiddling Joe. 

His fingers quivers lack de strings; 
His voice jes trembles when he sings. 
Man, burn yo fiddle and yo bo, 
Fur you can't play lack fiddling Joe. 

No preacher kin control his feet; 
No congregation keep de seat; 
Dare foots will certny rap de floor 
And keep good time wid fiddling Joe. 

Ef yo gal tells you, "Let us go 
And set er while wid fiddling Joe," 
Jes laugh it off, and don't obey; 
Fur Jce will win yo gal erway. 

Joe went ter church de udder day, 
And took his fiddle fur ter play; 
He stood his distance from de door. 
And tuned dat thing, and let it go. 



148 POEMS. 



De ushers of de church come out, 
And sed, *'We'll stO)p him dout er dout." 
Dey all went stiiutting up ter him, 
But Joe jes paid no mine ter dem. 

De deacons said, "We'll stop de coon, 
We'll run dat nigger to de moon." 
Joe played so sweet tell Deacon Big 
Jes squared hisself and danced er jig. 

De preacher come out of de church 
And sed, **Dis feller's jes to much;" 
He carried his song book wid him. 
And sung er ole furmiliar hymn. 

Joe tuned his fiddle wid much glee, 
And played, "Neiarer my God ter thee." 
De preacher wrinkled up his face 
And joined right in, and sung de base. 

Den all de church come running out, 
And Joe jes made dem sisters shout; 
De sexton locked up every door. 
And went ter hear dat fiddling Joe. 

Now Joe had sense, he used his head ; 
He stopped his instrument and sed: 
"Now, brudders, sisters, hear my call; 
I want er kleotion from you all." 

Den fiddling Joe took off his hat, 
And carried it to Deacon Fat, 



POEMS. 149 



Who tole de members to dey face, 
Ter come right on and do make ase. 

So fiddling Joe got by alright; 
He worked things well widout er fight; 
Now I have told you what I know 
Erbout dat auful fiddling Joe. 



A TRIBUTE TO THE FT. WORTH COLORED 
HIGH SCHOOL. 

There is a charming, pleasing, ideal spot, 
Upon which a great institution stands; 

It occupies a spacious healthful lot, 
Well kept and beautified by skillful hands. 

No building of its kind for Negroes yet 
Surpasses it. Not in the whole southland. 

It stands to prove that what we want, we get ; 
If we are worthy of whiat we demand. 

One hundred forty-three by sixty-nine 
Are the dimensions of this building grand; 

Three stories high, modemly built and fine; 
For centuries this school was built to stand. 

Yea, twenty-five well-planned and cozy rooms. 

All furnished with material the best; 
Well kept by constant use of cloths and brooms, 

In readiness far sanitary test. 



150 POEMS. 



Examine well the manual training room; 

It will an impression upon you make. 
And will your very mind and soul consume, 

While great passions of pride within you 'wake. 

The work in this unique department shows 
That well-trained heads and eyes, and skillful 
hands 
Were used to these wonderful things compose, 
The names of which are deKsks and chairs and 
stands. 

Down in the kitchen next, and dining-room, 
There meet Miss Patterson, the teacher gay, 

And some of that well-prepared food consume; 
But don't forget that there you cannot stay. 

Ninety feet long by eighty feet across, 
Is the chapel so beautiful, so grand; 

With ample room and seats that will engross 
Hundreds who come to their own minds ex- 
pand. ! i 

Then out upon the play-grounds you may see 
Hundreds of boys and girls with laughter gay. 

The beating heart of each is filled with glee, 
While joyfully they with er.ch other play. 

Various exercises are employed: 

Football and swing, tennis and basket ball, 

No student on the grounds is made devoid, 
But each has privilege to try them all. 



POEMS. 151 



When standing far away to view the scene, 
What thrilling passions stir the gloomy soul! 

The mind goes back to old school days serene, 
And hardly can you your own self control. 

A faculty of teachers twenty-two, 

Five able men who hold college degrees; 

And seventeen others with merits true. 

No set of teachers are loved more than these. 

The principal, Professor I. M. Terrell, 

For thirty years this institution's guide, 

Has side-tracked for no misfortune nor peril, 
But kept the sword of courage by his side. 

He met his oppositions face to face. 

And stood for right, though many times alone ; 
He made a 'asting standard for his race, 

And by this standard it is marching on. 

But ah! that true help-meet stood by his side, 
And in the stormy seasons cheered him up; 

O'er rugged roads she was his faithful guide. 
And drank with him from many a bitter cup. 

Now may success his many efforts crown 
With golden gems all sparkling bright and 
new. 

I know 'tis not his aim to seek renown. 
But to mankind and to himself be true. 



152 POEMS, 



JAP'S ANKLE EXCURSION. 

Well, I'se bout rested now, and mer nerves is 
alright ergin. Now 1*11 percede ter tell yer bouf 
dat Ankle Excursion dat I had last week. You 
see Fse been working fer one certain white man, 
seven years, fur six dolars er week, and one meal 
er day, cluden Sunday ; but every time we have er 
payday, he wants me ter trade haf er mer money 
fur grub. So ebei'y week he swades me to trade 
three ob dem "Gods we trust" wid him, and dat 
jes leaves me jes only erbout three ob them 
"Gods we trust'* ter hab a little fun wid. I 
swallowered dat bitter pill er long time) tell last 
week. Jes before pay day, I got mer craw fuller 
grit, an mer eyes fuller red, an mer mouf fuller 
nerve, an when Boss come tor pay me off, he 
foun mer lip® sticking out lacker faucet on er 
lasses ba*l. Den he sed ter me, "What's ter mat- 
ter wid you, Jap?*' An I tole him dat I wanted 
all mer money dis ebening, caze I had er plenty 
grub at home dout buying eny more fur er long 
time, an mer wife tole me not ter bring eny 
more grub dar, but pour de whole six dollars in 
her lap temight, caze she would do her own trad- 
ing from dis on. Boss didn't lack dat much, 
but I didn't care, caze I'se been cackerlating on 
telling him bout dis matter er long time. So 
fust one word den er niuder, brought de anner- 
mosity ter er dangus pint. Den Boss got mad 
an called me one ob dem black things, den mer 
ashes come ter de suffis. Den I told him dat he 



POEMS. 153 



had me ter pay right dis minit, or beat me run- 
ning. I knowed dat I could whoop him from de 
shoulders, caze he didn't weigh but one hundid 
and twenty pouns, an' I*se been weighing two 
hundrid ebery since Fse seventeen years old. Fse 
jes fixing ter tell Boss ter squar hissef 
fer er fight, an* he hit me squar cudab 
in de mouf and stopped dat word right 
'tween mer lips an' teeth. But dat didn't stop 
me, fur I jes grabbed him up lacker baby, an 
give him er good shaking. But let me tell you, 
I'se skeered ter turn Boss er loose, caze his face 
got red and he gin ter cuss lacker demon. Finely 
all mer nerves settled in mer feets an I got so 
weak, tell I let Boss drap squar cudab on de 
groun, an mashed his nose; mouf an chin. Den 
Boss got up an reached back an got his six 
shooter an whaled me over de head four times, 
one lick right after emudder, den stot so close 
ter my head tell mer head cotch on fire; den he 
tole me ter look down de bar'l ob dat gun ter 
see what I could see ; an great day in de mornin ! 
My eyes got on clipse, an peers lack I seed er 
funeral persession wid me in front. Not satis- 
fied wid de way he's doing me he lack ter m^e 
me run mer fool self ter death. He made me 
turn mer face terwards home, pinted dat six 
shooter at me, an told me ter git! Den shot so 
close ter my head tell de powder burnt mer face. 
Well, I reached up an got mer sky piece, folded 
it in mer hand, mer feets was ready,fur I'se al- 



154 POEMS. 



ready barefooted, took on more steam, pulled de 
throddle open, said, "Yesser, Boss." Den the 
Ankle Excursion begin. 

Now you talk erbout ankling, an yer 
cannon ball, an yer race horses, an yer automo- 
biles, an yer airships, but I'se er century er head 
ob dem things in making fast time. I raised 
so much dust tell I heard de folkes dat lived er 
long dat lain, say, ''Showly, showly, dis must be 
er sacklone.'* Chickens, hogs, dogs an guineas 
all left home when dey seed me coming. Horses 
an cows jes broke out er de lot, an run clear off 
when dey heard me coming. Chilluns jes run in 
the house an crawled under de bed. Pudy soon, 
I heard Boss shoot ergin. Well, dat fust ank- 
ling that I done wuz jes an interduction to de 
ankling dat I done after I heard Boss shooti de 
last time. I come ter er river dat had er bridge 
ercross it, an mer right foot struck dat bridge 
middle ways, but mer lelt found biziness on de 
udder side. After er few ups an downs, I got 
er clear righterway home. Den I got in er lane 
dat wuz as smoothe an level as er floor; den I 
stretch mer arms an sailed lack er guinea. 

When I got in sight of my pint of view, dar 
my wife and chilluns wuz waiting fur me; I 
heard one of my chilluns say : "Here come papa,'* 
an erbout eir halfer second after dat, I heard er 
nudder one of my chilluns say : "Yoner go papa." 
But I jes p?st by home. Den de lain made er 
turn, but I did nort turn wid it, I kept straight 



POEMS, 155 



on through er corn field and made ears of com 
whiz an ziine before me. I finely stopped in er 
little town twenty miles from home, an when 
it got dark, I started fur home, erriving there 
erbout midnight. I rapped on de door right easy, 
and Susana, my wife, said, "Is dat you Jap?" 
den I sed, "Dis is what's left ob me." And she 
sed: "Whar's de rest ob you?" I tole her dat 
I lost de rest ob me in sweat an blood. She start- 
ed to ask me some more questions, but I tole her 
ter fix de bed, an don't bother me fur four days, 
unless she seen Boss coming. So dat ended dat 
Ank'e Excursion right dar. 



LITERARY INDIGESTION. 

I'se jes from de college, an mer head is fuller 
all kinds er stufl^. But let me tell yer dat stuff 
aint digested yit, an I know it's not gwinter stay 
on my brains, caze it jes won't soke in. I'se 
used all kinds ob remedies. I'se tried de "book 
under de head" remedy, de *' set up tell mid- 
night" tonic, an de "git up fore day" reh^ef, ana 
dey aint kored me yit. I'se bout ter side dat 
sumphen's wrong wid dis upper story. It's big 
emough, an pears lack it's fuller sumphen. I 
guess I mus got de guitar cb de brains. Fesser 
sed sumphen erbout de gray matter; de more 
yer hab ob dem de wizer yer is; but pears lack 
ter me I aint got none at all. I had some when 
I went ter dat school, but I guiess dey all muster 
turned black. Fesser told me ter take er little 



156 POEMS. 



jymnistic exercise, maybe dat would kore dis in- 
digestion ; I did, but it didn't do me no good, caze 
I played looperty loop, turned summersets, skint 
de cat and dog too, but all dat jjnnnictics put 
tergether didn't help me er bit. Caze I picked 
up my silver g^verment, an tried ter memerize 
de fourteenth an fifteenth menment, so I could 
make er big perlitical speech onde nineteenth ob 
June, but bless mer soul, I furgot it faster den 
I looked at it; it jes wouldn't stay on my brains. 
Well I picked up my dictionary, an tried ter find 
er word dat means what's ails me; I rambled 
^n rambled, an rambled, an bime by, I found er 
word dat sed diarrhoea, but I let dat word 
erlone, caze it had too much dying in it fur me. 
Well, I found emudder word dat sed, insane, 
an it had de same meanings dat crazy had, den 
I sed, slowly dat's jes whats de matter wid me, 
Fse erbout crazy. Den I got uneasy an went 
ter de glass aji looked at myself ter see ef I 
favored dat crazy man diat I seed at de sylum, 
an bless mer soul dar wasn't much diffunts in 
de looks ob us, de only diffunts I could see was, 
dat he donno howter act when company comes 
ter see him, an I does. Why dat scamp jes sed 
all kiner bad words before my best gal. Now 
I'se skeered dat ef I don't git dis literary indi- 
gestion kored puddy soon, I'll be jes like him. 
But let me git back ter de pint ergin ; I picked up 
mer histry, an read bout de battle ob Bunkers 
Hill ten times, one time right after emudder. 



POEMS, 157 



den I shet mer eyes right tight an tried ter re- 
call dat battle, but bless mer soul, ter save mer 
life I couldn't tell er thing erbout it. I roached 
mer hair back and wriggled erbout in mer seat, 
but save mer life I couldnU call dat battle ter 
mine. It jes got erway from me ah got on 
^'Twinkle, twinkle, little star," an I jes couldn't 
git it off tell Fesser come ter mer room an tole 
me dat I had ter saw two cords er wood an stay 
on de campus ten days fur sturbing peace. I 
ast him how did I sturb de peace? An he tole 
me dat ebery student in de building had rushed 
ter de door trying ter locate dat little star I'se 
talking bout. Well, after Fesser left, I picked up 
mer rithmetic an tried ter work out some zam- 
ples, but dar wuz so much wood an campus on 
mer mine tell dar was no room fur de rithmetic. 
Finely de whole biziness turned ter chloroform, 
an put me fast ter sleep ; an dar I wen ter dream- 
ing bout dat wood an campus. I cared on so 
in mer sleep tell I woke merself up jes in time 
ter miss some more wood an campus, fur Fesser 
opened de door right quick an looked at me lack 
er hawk at er cheekin; den he sed: "I muster 
been mustaken." An I sed, "Dat's right, Fesser." 
Well puddy soon after dat I had ter cut dat wood 
an spend dem ten miserable days on de campus, 
but I commence ter cackerlating on mer staying 
at dat school eny longer. **Well," sed I, "what's de 
use me staying gitting more ter digist, an can't di- 
gist dis I got?" So I tole Fesser dat I must go 
home, an he sed: "Why, what's de matter, Sam?" 



158 POEMS. 



I tole him dat mer money's done give out but 
Tse gwine home an work harder an come back 
next session. Sol got erway on dat piterful story, 
an now I'se at home ergin, an I'se gwinter git 
me er mule, an er farm, an go ter work, an raise 
cotton, an corn, an pe^as, an cheekins, hogs an 
chilkms, fur dat's de only kore I know erbout 
fur literary indigestion. 



PARSON IKEY'S REPORT OF THE WORLD'S 
BAPTIST CONORESS. 

Well, bruddes and sisters ob de much beloved 
and far-reaching denomination, it fords me wid 
de unmeasuigerable mont ob ipleger ter persent 
some laffererble and comical facts dat I cotch 
at de World Baptist Congress in de city ob Phiiy- 
delfer. 

Fustly, I must say dat yalFs gwinter ceve er 
blessing fur sending yo Ibving an God-sent pas- 
ter ter Congress. But dem stingy darkies dat 
wouldn't tribit nothing ter help send de paster 
off, so dat he might recruit his rundown self 
and add more power ter his voice, de Lord's 
gwinter make dem lose what little dey's got. 
Now dat's de truf, eaze I drempt dat I seed dem 
very jdarkieis begging sumfphen tjeat. I know 
who yer is, and ef de Lord don't pay yer, I will. 

As I'se gwinter say, dat wuz er great meeting. 
Ebe'ry nation under de sun wuz dar. De man 
in de moon woulder been dar, but I guess he 



POEMS. 159 



muster been kept bizzy burning bresh, so dat de 
udder brudders could have moon shiny nights. 
I declare, some ob de ugglest delegates I eber 
seed wuz dar; some ob dem neber will git ter 
heaven, caze it is written: '*God don't love 
ugly." 

We carried er healthy bunch er preachers 
from Texas, sho's you born; but some ob dem 
wuz de greenest set ob darkies I eber seen. 
Dey's got er plenty sense when dey's in Texas, 
but la me, de futher east dey got, de less sense 
dey had. Dey tells me dat de east wind fects 
Texas darkies, and now I bleve it. 

Prominant ermong de Texas delegates wuz: 
Parson Walker, P. ob B. M. and E. C; Parson 
Heavyweight, S. of M. ; Parson Slowlooking, 
Pastor; Fesser Yalleralkin, Editor, and Fesser 
Skinnie, a famous B. Y. P. U. President. Now 
I tell yer, er whole lots ob dem preachers wuzn't 
invited ter dat Congress; dey jes butted in. 1 
tell yer ernudder thing, some ob our preachers is 
alis splitting dere thoats erginst de Jim Crow 
law, and bless my soul, when dey gits whr.r dar's 
no sicher law or color line, dey aint satisfied, fur 
when dey set down ter de table ter eat wid de 
white folkes dey look lack nervis wrecks. One 
preacher from Texas jes wouldn't enjoy dat 
privilege after gitting it. Fur he jes took his 
little bread and meat in his hands and went inter 
de kitchen wid de cooks and desh washers and 
pot rustler ; den de pot rustler sed ter him : "Say, 



160 POEMS. 



Parson, what yer doin down here, dis-aint no din- 
ing-room?" Den de preacher, wid er mouf 
fuller taters and meat, sed : " Jes tend ter yo biz- 
ness. Bud, and let minsses erlone; I see now dat 
youse er biggerty nigger, and ef youse down 
souf dey'd linch you fore breakfast." Now dat 
goes ter show yer dat he wuz er lion in de kitchen 
and er mouse in de dining-room. 

Dar*s ernudder one of dem Texas preachers 
dat made me so shame tell Fse shame ter tell de 
people dat I'se from Texas. Dis feller goes fur 
one of Texas' close observers of de letter aaid 
spirit. Dey give him no time ter speak in dat 
meeting, but he jes wanted ter be seen so bad 
tell he jes raised up enyhow and sed: "Mr. Presi- 
dent, dis is Dr. Knowall from Texas ; may I have 
de privilege of being supplied wider program of 
dis meeting " And bless mer soul, he wuz in- 
formed dat he had all de programs ob de whole 
session in his hand. Now sicher feller as dat 
O'ughter have his license, plumer and title taken 
erway from him fur dat's er dangus^ feller* 

De rule of dat meeting wuz, dat no one could 
speak over ten minutes, but dat Booker T. Wash- 
ington jes hypotized de 'v^hole thing and spoke 
long as he wanted to. 

Did you say, "Whar wuz I?" I*se dar. De 
big preachers didn't pay me no mine, caze I 
couldnU say dem big "highferluten jawbreakers, 
but I'se the secret secretary of dat whole biziness 
Jes de samf. 



POEMS. 161 



Now I'll finish dis report next Sunday, caze 
its time tier take up kerlection. Fd lack fur all 
de members ter storm de paster, caze de grub 
is gitting slim round erbout my premises. 



FRANK AND THE BULL DOG. 

Laffing is cetching an hanging is stretching. 
Yau may laff at me caze dat bull dog bit me dis 
er way, but youse lible ter have de same speri- 
ence some day. Spose you wanter know erbout 
it so you kin bust yo side, do yer? Well, Fse 
gwinter tell yer all erbout it ef you stop lafflng 
and look seeinis, caze dis is er seerus peacer bizi- 
ness. You see Fse er coachman ob dat high 
order, dat is, I wears er silk hat an er long coat 
wid brass buttons up an down de front an tail, 
an on de sleevteB, an I drives two led oulilid 
mares hitched to er fine victoree, an I has ter 
set up high, an de white folkes sets down low, 
an I has ter hold mer neck stiff, an look digner- 
fied. 

Well, Fse gwinter tell you bout dat bull-dog 
now. You see, I jes come in from driving de 
white folkes yistiddy morning, an Miss Mary 
sunt me down ter Miss Williams' house ter carry 
er note; dat jes suited me caze mer gal cooked 
fur Miss Williams, so in order dat she might give 
me a good inspection, I wrote mer unerform 
down dare. Now you know Miss Williams is 
got er big bull dog wider head ez big ez er lasses 
ba*l an his toothes so big tell he can't shet his 



162 POEMS, 

mouf. When I got ter de gate I hollud, hello! 
and somebody dat I couldn't see, said : "Come in, 
de dog is tied! Come in, I say; old Brisco ia 
tied!" And den dey told me ter tie de gate ter 
keep de calf from gitting out. Well, I tell yer, 
dat last thing dat she sed erbout tying dat gate 
didn't suit me er bit, caze it made me feel 
nervus. I didn't feel safe er tall wid dat gate 
tied, but I didn't wanter act hardheaded; so I 
went slipping terwards de steps sorter briefly; 
den I beared dat dog er growling, an it sounded 
lack er thunder storm; I stopped right still, but 
dat same voice sed: ''Come in, he's tied;" an 
bless mer soul, jes ez I got ter de steps dat same 
voice said: ''who-o-ee! sickem, Brisco! whoo-ee! 
sichem, sichem, Brisco !" Well I knowed de race 
wuz on, an er hot one too. De bull dog wuzent 
in sight, an perhaps I mouter goter way ef it 
hadn't been fur dat deblish little fice; he traced 
de bull dog's tention, an jes ez I'se boutter gitter 
way dat scamp cotch me by KXij puddy driving 
coat wid er death holt, an ginter swing back, but 
I tell yer Is'e caying dat dog er merry gate tell 
I stepped on sumphen slick an fell flat on mer 
stumuck. Den dat dog turned loose mer coat 
an gotter mouf cramming full of my leg, an jes 
look lack he went ter sleep. Tell yer dat dog 
wuzent making no fuss, but I wuz ; couldn't no- 
body do nothing wid dat scamp. Finely, my 
gal, de cook, went over to de drug store in de 
next block an got some "high life" an poured 



POEMS. 163 



it all on dat scamp^s head, an dat's de key dat 
unlocked dat big vice, sho's you born; it made 
him keep more fuss den I did. I think dat 
stuff stroyed three-thirds of his ambition. I 
hope it'll stroy his whole life. I never could git 
my gal ter say she loved me, but actions speaks 
louder den words fur she couldn't er done but 
one thing bettem ter make dat dog turn my leg 
er loose, an dat wuz, ter tell me dat she loved 
me well ernuff ter marry me, and dat bizness 
will come up jes ez soon ez my leg gits well. 

Now, who do you reckon such dat dog on me? 
It wuz dat deblish parrit ; an I'se gwinter give 
him er cracker wid some dope on it fust chance 
I git. So ef you hear of a dead parrit in dis 
naberhood, wy don't be serprized. 



HOW JIM'S GHOST STORY ENDED. 

Umph, umph, umph! Well, well, well! I 
never woulder thought it. As long as I been 
coming by dat graveyard, I'se never had sicher 
spearence as dat berfore. Folkes neanter tell 
me dat dar's no ghostes, fur im knows better den 
dat, caze I knows dat I'se had two hours' war- 
fare wid dat white man dat committed sooeyside, 
an I had ter help ter tote him home. His name 
was Mr. iRunerbout, an dat's de right name fur 
him, fur he's certny run me erboiit dis night. 
Well, de way it was, I'se down ter mer friend, 
John's, house, dat's five miles on de u^lder side 



164 POEMS. 



of de white folkes graveyard, an I stayed dar 
tell ieben er'clock, an John says ter me, says he: 
"Jim, aint you skeered ter go by dat graveyard 
ternight? You'd better stay wid me an go home 
enermoming." "Ah, no," says I; "Fse not 
skeered or no dead man, case ef he*s in heaven, 
he don't wanter come here no mo, but ef de 
devil's got him, he can't come here no mo, case 
he's shet up in er hot ubben," So I started out 
fur home, specting to rive dar bout twelve er 
er'clock, jes one hour's walk. When I got in 
sight er de graveyard, jes ter keep mysef from 
gitting lonesome, I ginter whistle, "€otton-eyed 
Joe," but in spiter all I could do or say, I couldnt 
keep back all er dat ciuis feelings ter save my 
life. I got so nervus tell I jest couldn't whistle 
dat song. De hair on mer head ginter unrole, 
an straighten out. I tell yer, I felt jes lack dat 
sumphen's gwinter happen. Truth er nuff, 
sumphen did happen, you bet yer boots it did. 
I tried ter keep from looking over in dat grave- 
yard, but I jes couldn't help it ter save mer life; 
an when I looked, behold dar stood up right in 
plain view dat very white man dat committed 
sooeyside. Den I sed ter him, "Howdy do, Mr. 
Runnerbout?" But he didn't say er word. I tell 
yer it's er good thing he didn't, case dar'd er 
been ernudder' funnel right dar. Well, I decided 
dat dat muster been his statue dey made ter 
memerize him. Den I gin ter move off fur 
home, kinder looking back oner sly, an I ginter 



POEMS, 165 



step off sorter briefly, but it looked lack de man, 
graveyard and all wuz following me. I couldn't 
git rid of dem, so I decided ter run erway from 
de whole biziness. I started out making air- 
ship time. Well, I run an run tell I didn't see 
nothing of him. I decided dat I had outrun him. 
But bless mer soul, when I got nearly ter mer 
gate, behold dar stood dat same man at mer 
gate waiting fur me. Den I started round ter 
slip in de back gate, but behold dar stood dat 
same man right in mer back gate waiting fur 
me. Den I decided dat I would go ter one of 
mer neighbors' house ter spend de night, so off 
I put, but jes ez I got in sight of de house, I 
seed Mr. Runnerbout standing at dat gate. But 
dis time he started terwards me, an at de same 
time gitting bigger an bigger. Now I tell you 
de fastest running on record wuz done last night 
tween one on three er'clock by me an dat 
ghost; he jes kept closer nough ter keep me in 
notion er running. Ever now an den peers lack 
I could hear him say, "Run, Jimmy, run, less 
haber little fun." I want habing much fun, but 
I tell you Fse running. He run me back ter his 
place er biziness, which is degraveyard, an he 
run me right thru it, but I tell yer, I show 
wrecked his place er biziness, fur I guess I must 
er misplaced erbout fifty tombstones an cedar 
trees; but enyhow he never followed me eny 
futher after he got ter de graveyard. I guess 
he muster went in ter take his rest; he certny 



166 POEMS, 



needed it as well as myself, but I never stopped 
running till I got home. And hardly stopped 
den, fur 1 run de rest of de night in mer sleep. 
Did you say dat wuz you? Wy, Rube, was dat 
you running me dat way? Well, you certny 
favored Mr. Runnerbout. 



A WATERMELON CONTEST. 

Haw, haw, haw! It's er shame de way I done 
Jim bout dat water millun, fur Jim is er tickler 
f ren er mine. He saved me from drowning once, 
an he kept a f eler from licking me ernudder time. 
An he got my gal to reconjoin herself back 
ter me ergin in addition plus me and her, 
but let me percede ter tell yer bout dat terrible 
watermillun contest. Yer see I went out joy 
walking one morning, an chance ter come hy old 
Bob Battleham's watermillun patch. I was 
very thirsty, fur I had walked erbout ten miles 
widout much joy. So I set down oner log wid 
mer legs crossed close ter de fence speckerlat- 
ing on dem watermilluns. I wouldn't git over 
in de patch right erway case it wuz too close ter 
de house; an besides ole Bob had er big bull dog 
an er fist loading shotgun. I knowed de dog 
would bite, an I knowed de ole man would shoot, 
so I made myself be still fur er while. 

Puddy soon I seed mer Fren Jim come erlong 
an cast his two big eyes in dat same patch er 
milkms. I beed right still an watched him case 



POEMS. 167 



I didn't want him ter see me. But I lackter laffed 
out when Jim turned his head sideways an stuck 
it thru er crack, an after he found dat he couldn't 
git his body thru he turned his head straight 
an tried ter pull dat empty cokenut out, but 
dat feller lackter broke his neck square oif. He 
tried ter holler, but he wuz pulling back so hard 
tell he couldn't open his mouf. After while he 
quit puling an wenter thinking jes what he 
orter done at fust. Den he turnt his head back 
sideways an pulled it out jes as easy. Den I 
heard him say: ''What er fool I wuz;" an I lack 
ter said: "Youse dat same fool yit." But let 
me tell yer, while dat feller's head v/as thru dat 
crack he spotted dat same watermillun dat I 
picked out fur mersef. I heard him say dat he 
would come back dar dat night bout twelve 
er'clock an git dat watermillun. Den I sed ter 
merself : *'Yes, I'll meet you here too, Bud." So 
Jim went on home wid his skint neck, an puddy 
soon I went too. I went home an lolled roun' 
dar all day thinking bout dat watermillun. Dat 
wuz de longest day I eber seed in mer life. 
But finely de time come an I wenter dat patch 
erbout half past leben er'clock in order ter beat 
Jim dar, but when I got dar Jim wuz jes gittin 
over de fence into de patch. I squarted down 
in de fence corner an watched him. 

He went sneaking over ter dat same millun 
dat I spotted, an stooped down ter pull it off; an 
it seem lack he wuz breaking mer heartstring 
how misserable I felt! I hated ter speak ter 



168 POEMS. 



him, case he'd know mer voice; so I growled 
lack dat bull dog. Den Jim got up aii stretched 
his neck lacker wild goose; den I growled ergin, 
an thunderation ! you never seed sicher running 
in all de days of yer life, an me needer. Jim 
fell down an broke ^r millun all ter pieces wid 
his head, den he got his footses wrapped up in 
dem vines and kept so much fuss tell he made 
de man's dog bark sho nough; den dat feller 
broke loose from dem vines an run erginst de 
fence an jes ruint it ferever. He jes run clear 
off widder vine roun his neck, an Mr. Battleham 
an dat bull dog right in behind him. Well, I 
took advantage of de absence of mer most dread- 
ed enemies an got dat watermillun and fotch 
it home. An now I'se gwinter invite Jim ter 
help me eat it; dat is, ef he's able ter come. Den 
I'll tease him de rest of his life bout dat water- 
millun contest. 



BOB'S VACATION. 

Back ter town ergin, "I juckles," an ebery- 
thing certny looks strange ter old Bob. I jes 
stayed one night, but had some strange speri- 
ences. I'se been ter East Texas, erbout ten miles 
from Marshall, ter see mer kinfolkes. It had 
ben erbout twenty years since I'se dar; an ter 
mer surprize, things aint changed er bit. Peo- 
ple's still plowing wid er ox an mule tergether, 
still drinking licker, an voting anti tickets. But 



POEMS, 169 



in spite ob all er dat, de folkes amer still stick- 
ing ter dat ole time er ligun an dem ole ring 
plays. But I tell yer, dar am some of dem cullid 
folkes in an eround Marshall dat am **highfer- 
lutin/' but I'se talkin bout whar Tse raised. 

I landed dar oner Sadday night, spent er 
missible night at mer brudder-in-law*s oner 
straw bed. I'se sorry I went ter bed, caze de 
sketers, fleas an bed rousters, my sakes er lise, 
jes stuck daggers in me all night long. Dey all 
would bite an say nothing but de sketer; ebery- 
time he'd come ter take er bite he'd sing, "City 
meat's sweet, come on let's eat," an I said, "Yas, 
it won't be sweet long if I stay here, fur you'll 
suck all the sweetness out." 

Well, day broke and I broke too; dat 
is, I run outer dat room an run smack down ter 
de creek fore I stopped, an jumped in and brought 
mersef back ter life. Pudy soon after dat, I 
heard de breakfast horn er blowing dat ole fer- 
miliar tune, calling me ter breakfast; so I put 
on mer two peaces an expressed mersef ter de 
house. When I got dar. Sis Susanna Jane ast 
me whar I'd been, an I told her dat I had been 
doing de fish act. Den she called me inter de 
family prayer-me<eting, an we all knelt down, 
an Parson Ben, dat had also spent de night dar. 
led de prayer. And as luck would hab it, I 
bowed wid mer eyes terwards de table wid all 
de grub on it. De Parson prayed so long tell I 
had ter ast er little boy dat wuz bowing close 



170 POEMS. 



ter me how long did de Parson genly pray; an 
he ast me ef he had sed enything erbout de river 
ob Jorden yit. And I sed: "De devil, no;*^ den 
he told me when de Parson got ter de river ob 
Jorden dat he wuz jes haf way. Den I sed ter 
him, dat I speck when de Parson did git ter de 
river ob Jorden I'd be through eating. I looked 
eround ter see ef dar wuz any sine ob him end- 
ing dat prayer, but bless mer soul, dat scamp 
had got back on his hunkles wid his head rared 
back ter de lowf ob de house an er slapping his 
hands, an er sweating an er foaming at de mouf 
lacker mad dog; an I heard him say dat he felt 
lack praying all day. Den I looked at mer brud- 
der-in-law an sister, an deys done got haippy. 
Well, I got tied er dat fulishness, an whilse dey 
wuz enjoying de spirit, I'se enjoying mersef eat- 
ing breakfast. Now let me tell yer bout dat 
breakfast; dar wuz fist biskits, dat is, biskits 
squeezed off with yer hand; den rolem round an 
hit dem er hard lick ter shape dem up, den put 
'em in de uben an when dey's done dey's big as 
er loaf er light bread. Den dar wuz er big pan full 
er cheekin on de table an er poun er butter at 
ebery plate an er big jug er lasses, an er big jar 
er simmon beer, an er keg er sider. Den dey 
had taters tewed, roasted, baked an fried. Wait 
dat aint all yit; dey had hog jole an crackling 
bread, an er strong gallun er coffee setting at de 
Parson's plate, an er big desh er saushut dat 
Vs^as kored in shucks. Well, I jes propped mer- 



POEMS. 171 



sef an went ter eating; but ebery once an er 
while rd give de litle boy er hand out ter keep 
him from pertraying me. After while Parson 
Ben got ter de river ob Jorden an I heard him 
say, "Cross me over in er cam time." Den he 
opened his eyes and seed me eating, an I let you 
know dat preacher ended dat prayer right mid- 
dle ways Jorden and never did git over. He jes 
rose up an ast me what de devil was I doing; an 
I told him dat I wuz eating my dinner caze I 
never had eny breakfast. Den mer sister an 
brudder-in-law opened dare eyes ter see what 
wuz de matter, an dey tole me dat dey wnz act- 
ually shame ob me, an ef dat's de way Tse 
gwinter do, dey didn't want me ter come dar 
enymore. Parson Ben finely got eberything al- 
right when he tole dem dat city niggers didn't 
know what er square meal wuz nohow. After 
dat biziness got pudy shaky w^'d ule; so I de- 
cided dat de city was de best place fur me since 
I had killed mersef in de country. So off I put, 
an here I nm. 



APR 25 1913 



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